^.£6,30 
LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 

PRINCETON.  N.  J. 


PRESENTED  BY 

Dr.   Andrew  W,   Blackwood 

BX   9178    .C28    1874 
Candlish,   Robert  Smith, 

1806-1873. 
Sermons 


SERMONS 


BY  THE  LATE 


EGBERT   S.  CANDLISH,  D.D. 


THE  WORKS  OF  ROBERT  S.  CANDLISH,  D.D. 

,  Late  Principal  of  the  New  College,  Edinburgh. 


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MEMORIAL     VOLUME^ 


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SERMONS 


2^'OGICALSt^' 


BY  THE  LATE 


EOBEKT    S.  CANDLISH,  D.D. 


MINISTER   OF   FKEE   ST.    GEORGE's,    AND   PRINCIPAL   OF   THE 
NEW   COLLEGE,   EDINBURGU 


WITH  A    BIOGRAPHICAL  PREFACE 


NEW    YORK 
R   CARTER  &  BRO«-    530  BROADWAY 

1874 


Printed  by  R.  &  R.  Clark,  Edinlurgh. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

PEEFACE  ......  i 

I.  Sowers  and  Reapers  (John  iv.  37)  .  .         1  '^ 

II.  The  Man  Christ  Jesus  (1  Timothy  ii.  5)  .       24 

III.  The  Simplicity  that  is  in  Christ  (2  Corinthians 

xi.  3)  .  .  .  .  .43 

IV.  Death  and  Life  with  Christ  (Colossians  iii.  3)  .       67  ^ 

V.  Isaiah's  Vision  (Isaiah  vi.  1-8)     .  .  .       8G 

VI.  Faith  glorifying  God  (Romans  iv.  20)  .     105  '— 

VII.  Enduring  as  seeing  the  Invisible  One 

(Hebrews  xi.  27)  .  .  .  .125 

VIII.  The  Sin  op  Carefulness  (Luke  xii.  22-40)  .     139  ^ 

IX.  Thorough-going  Christianity  (Judges  ii.  1-5)     .     155 

X.  The  Oath  of  God  (Hebrews  vi.  18)  .  .170 

XI.  The    Indwelling   Word  of    Christ  (Colossians 

iii.  16)  .  .  .  .  .      188  ^ 

XII.  Christ  the  only  Gain  (Phihpiiians  iii.  8,  9)         .     203 

XIII.  The  Foundation  of  God  (2  Timothy  ii.  19)         .     220 


viil  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

XIV.  Strangers  and  Pilgrims  (Hebrews  xi.  13)  ,     235 

XV.  Living    and    Dying    to   the    Lord   (Komans 

xiv.  7,  8)         .  ,  .  .  .250 

XVL  Christ's  Lordship  over  the  Dead  and  Living 

(Romans  xiv.  9)  .  ,  .  .266 

XVIL  Work  for  the  Lord  and  Welfare  in  the 

Lord  (Ezra  vi.  14)      .  .  ,  .     284 

XVIIL  The  Righteous  Reward  (Hebrews  vi.  10  ;  xi,  26)  301 


PEEFACE. 


Egbert  Smith  Caxdlish  was  born  at  Edinburfrli  on  the 
23d  of  March  1806,  being  the  youngest  child  of  James 
Candlish,  a  teacher  of  medicine  there.  His  mother  was 
Jane  Smith,  one  of  the  six  "  Mauchline  belles  "  celebrated 
by  Eobert  Burns,  who  said  of  her,  "  Miss  Smith  she  has 
Avit."  His  father,  whose  surname  was  originally 
M'Candlish,  but  who  dropped  the  Celtic  prefix  when  at 
Glasgow  College,  was  also  a  friend  of  the  poet.  He  died 
very  suddenly,  a  few  weeks  after  his  son  Eobert  was 
born,  April  29, 1806  ;  and  thereupon  his  widow  with  her 
family,  consisting  of  two  sons  and  two  daughters,  removed 
to  Glasgow,  where  they  continued  to  reside  for  many 
years.  There,  accordingly,  Eobert  Candlish  spent  his 
early  days.  He  was  at  first  a  somewhat  delicate  and 
rather  timid  boy,  but  soon  getting  over  this,  he  joined 
with  hearty  enjo}Tnent  in  the  games  and  amusements 
of  his  companions.  He  entered  Glasgow  College,  10th 
October  1818,  at  the  early  age  of  twelve  ;  and  attended 
the  gown  or  undergraduate  classes  for  five  sessions, 
during  which  he  gained  many  prizes,  and  in  due  time  took 
the  degree  of  M.A.  At  this  time  Dr.  Chalmers  was  min- 
ister of  St.  John's  church  and  parish,  and  had  as  his  assist- 
ant Edward  Irving,  whose  great  gifts  as  a  preacher  were 


X  PEEFACE. 

not  then  generally  appreciated.  The  church  was  crowded 
when  Dr.  Chalmers  preached,  but  comparatively  empty 
when  his  assistant  was  to  occupy  the  pulpit.  Eobert 
Candlish,  however,  with  a  few  friends  and  fellow-students, 
while  fully  appreciating  the  eloquence  of  Dr.  Chalmers, 
enjoyed  almost  as  much  the  services  of  his  then  un- 
popular assistant,  and  was  one  of  his  regular  hearers.  In 
1823  he  entered  the  Divinity  Hall  of  the  Church  of 
Scotland,  which  he  attended  during  three  regular  sessions, 
completing  the  course  required  by  the  Church  by  one 
partial  session,  and  finally  leaving  college  in  December 
1826.  The  Professor  of  Divinity  in  those  days  was  Dr. 
Stevenson  MacGill,  a  man  of  earnest  piety  and  de- 
cidedly evangelical  opinions,  who  contributed  much,  by 
his  quiet  influence,  to  the  spread  of  sound  doctrine  and 
the  advance  of  spiritual  life  among  the  ministers  of  the 
Scottish  Church. 

During  a  great  part  of  his  college  course  Eobert 
Candlish  was  largely  employed  in  private  teaching, 
sometimes  as  much  as  eight  or  ten  hours  a  day,  in  ad- 
dition to  his  studies.  In  1826  he  went  with  Sir  Hugh 
Hume-Campbell,  as  private  tutor,  to  Eton  College,  wdiere 
he  remained  till  1829,  thus  getting  an  opportunity  of 
seeing  something  of  English  school  and  church  life. 
Meanwhile,  when  at  home  during  one  of  his  vacations,  he 
was  licensed  as  a  preacher  of  the  gospel  by  the  Presbytery 
of  Glasgow,  August  6,  1828  ;  and  on  returning  to  reside 
in  Glasgow  in  1829  he  was  engaged  as  assistant  by  Dr. 
Gavin  Gibb,  the  minister  of  St.  Andrew's,  in  that  city. 
Though  not  yet  ordained  as  a  minister,  he  had  the  entire 


PREFACE.  XI 

charge  of  the  congregation,  as  well  as  the  whole  supply 
of  the  pulpit ;  and  he  preached  regularly  twice  every 
Sabbath,  only  occasionally  exchanging  services  with 
other  ministers.  In  this  capacity,  while  almost  entirely 
unknown,  he  prepared  and  delivered,  in  the  ordinary 
course  of  his  duty,  some  of  those  sermons  that  after- 
wards made  a  profound  impression  in  St.  George's, 
Edinburgh,  and  established  his  fame  as  a  preacher.  He 
enjoyed  at  this  time  the  companionship  and  friendship 
of  the  Eev.  David  AVelsh,  then  minister  of  St.  David's, 
who  early  appreciated  his  gifts,  and  frequently  invited 
him  to  preach  to  his  own  congregation.  This  friendship 
continued  warm  and  unbroken  till  the  too  early  death 
of  Dr.  Welsh  in  1845.  With  Dr.  Smyth  of  St.  George's, 
Dr.  Henderson  of  St.  Enoch's,  and  Dr.  Eobert  Buchanan 
of  the  Tron  Church,  he  also  formed  early  and  life-long 
friendships.  During  these  years,  domestic  sorrow  had 
visited  the  home  of  the  young  preacher.  One  of  his 
sisters  had  died  in  1827,  and  his  only  brother,  James 
Smith  Candlish,  a  young  man  of  great  gifts,  and  much 
beloved  by  his  relatives  and  friends,  was  cut  oft',  just 
as  he  was  entering  a  most  promising  career  in  the 
medical  profession,  and  had  been  appointed  Professor  of 
Surgery  in  the  Andersonian  University.  He  died  of 
fever,  September  15,  1829. 

On  the  death  of  Dr.  Gibb  in  June  1831,  Mr. 
Candlish's  engagement  in  St.  Andrew's  came  to  an  end, 
and  thereafter  he  became  assistant  to  ]\Ir.  Gregor,  the 
minister  of  the  country  parish  of  Bonliill,  in  the  vale  of 
Leven,  Dumbartonshire.      Here,  too,  the  whole  of  the 


XU  PKEFACE, 

pulpit  and  pastoral  duties  "were  entrusted  to  him,  and 
he  discharged  them  with  such  zeal  and  diligence  as  to 
endear  himself  to  the  hearts  of  the  people.  In  this 
position  he  remained  for  two  years  and  three  months. 
But  though  he  had  been  thus  long  engaged  in  full 
ministerial  work ;  he  was  still  but  little  known 
beyond  a  small  circle  as  an  able  and  evangelical 
preacher,  and  seemed  as  far  as  ever  from  obtaining, 
what  was  then  the  utmost  aim  of  his  ambition,  some 
small  country  charge  as  ordained  minister.  So  little 
prospect  did  there  seem  of  this,  that  he  seriously 
contemplated  going  out  to  the  colonies,  and  actually 
offered  himself  for  work  in  Canada. 

But  the  great  Head  of  the  Church  had  another 
position  preparing  for  him.  The  congregation  of  St. 
George's,  Edinburgh,  had  been  raised  to  the  high- 
est position  in  that  city  by  the  zeal  and  eloquence  of 
Dr.  Andrew  Thomson,  who  was  suddenly  cut  off  in  1831. 
It  was  soon  after  deprived  of  the  services  of  his 
saintly  successor  Mr.  Martin,  by  the  state' of  his  health, 
which  required  a  residence  in  Italy.  His  place  was 
supplied  by  assistants  ;  and  in  January  1834,  Mr, 
Candlish  succeeded  his  friend  Mr.  Eoxburgh  (now  Dr. 
Eoxburgh,  of  Free  St.  John's,  Glasgow)  in  this  capacity. 
When  Mr.  Martin's  ill  health  was  found  to  continue, 
and  it  became  necessary  to  have  an  ordained  assistant 
and  successor,  the  young  preacher  from  the  West  had 
so  proved  his  gifts,  and  gained  the  hearts  of  the  flock, 
that  he  was  chosen  to  this  office  ;  but  Mr.  Martin 
having   died   in   Italy  in  the  following   ]\Iay,   Eobert 


PREFACE.  XIU 

Smith  Cancllisli  was  ordained  to  the  entire  charge  of 
the  congregation  on  the  14th  of  August. 

In  the  summer  of  1833  he  had  preached  on  four 
Sabbaths  in  the  National  Scotch  Church,  Eegent  Square, 
London,  then  vacant  by  the  removal  of  Edward  Irving  ; 
and  had  made  so  favourable  an  impression  that  the 
session  and  congregation  desired  earnestly  to  have  him 
as  their  minister.  They  were,  however,  not  in  a  position 
to  give  him  any  invitation  to  London  till  the  spring 
of  the  next  year,  by  which  time  steps  had  begun  to 
be  taken  towards  his  settlement  in  St.  George's.  Though 
he  accepted  this  as  the  prior  call ;  the  circumstance  now 
mentioned  led  to  a  warm  and  lasting  friendship  between 
Dr.  Candlish  and  some  of  the  elders  of  liegent  Square 
Church ;  and  was  the  first,  though  not  the  last,  link 
that  connected  him  with  that  congregation. 

The  new  ministry  in  St.  George's  was  thoroughly 
efficient.  Not  only  was  the  power  of  the  pulpit,  fully 
maintained,  but  pastoral  visitation  and  works  of 
Christian  beneficence  were  zealously  and  diligently  con- 
ducted ;  and  the  members  of  the  congregation  set  to 
working  for  the  cause  of  Christ.  One  result  of  these 
labours  was  the  formation  of  the  congregation  of  St. 
Luke's,  out  of  a  section  of  St.  George's  parish,  the  first 
of  a  series  of  efforts  in  Home  Mission  and  Church 
extension  that  the  congregation  successfully  made. 

But  the  even  tenor  of  this  course  of  Christian  use- 
fulness was  somewhat  broken,  though  never  interrupted, 
by  the  troubles  of  the  Church  of  Scotland,  which  called 
the  minister  of  St.  George's  to  take  an  active  part  in  the 


XIV  PREFACE. 

conflict  she  was  then  waging  for  her  rights  and  liberties. 
He  was  a  member  of  General  Assembly  in  1839,  when 
the  House  of  Lords  had  just  given  the  final  decision  on 
the  first  Auchterarder  case,  denying  the  legality  of  the 
Veto  Act  of  1834,  by  which  the  Church  had  sought  to 
secure  the  freedom  of  her  people  in  the  purely  spiritual 
matter  of  the  calling  and  ordination  of  ministers  over 
them.  The  Moderate  party  proposed  that  that  Act 
should,  without  being  repealed  by  the  Church,  be  thence- 
forth disregarded,  since  it  had  been  declared  illegal  by 
the  supreme  civil  tribunals  of  the  country.  In  the  debate 
on  this  point,  Mr.  Candlish  made  his  first  Assembly 
speech.  It  was  in  support  of  the  view  that,  as  the  Veto 
Law  was  not  of  a  civil  nature,  it  could  not  be  given  up 
by  the  Church  in  deference  to  the  Civil  Courts,  with- 
out surrendering  her  spiritual  independence  as  a  Church 
of  Christ ;  and  it  was  more  especially  called  forth 
by  a  motion  made  by  Dr.  Muir,  attempting  a  sort  of 
middle  course  or  compromise  between  the  two  opposing 
principles.  "  The  objections  to  the  scheme  were  stated," 
says  Dr.  Buchanan,  "and  urged  with  singular  felicity 
and  force,  by  one  who  was  destined  from  that  day  for- 
ward to  exert  perhaps  a  greater  influence  than  any 
other  single  individual  in  the  Church,  upon  the  conduct 
and  issue  of  this  eventful  controversy.  The  reputation 
of  Mr.  Candlish  as  a  preacher  was  already  well  known. 
His  extraordinary  talents  in  debate  and  his  rare  capacity 
for  business,  not  hitherto  having  had  any  adequate 
occasion  to  call  them  forth,  were  as  yet  undiscovered 
by  the  public,  probably  undiscovered  even  by  himself. 


prefacp:.  XV 

They  seemed,  however,  to  have  needed  no  process  of 
training  to  bring  them  to  maturity.  The  very  first 
effort  found  him  abreast  of  the  most  practised  and 
powerful  orators,  and  as  much  at  home  in  the  manage- 
ment of  affairs  as  those  who  had  made  this  the  study  of 
their  life.  There  was  a  glorious  battle  to  fight,  and  a 
great  work  to  do  on  the  arena  of  the  Church  of  Scotland  ; 
and  in  him,  as  well  as  in  others  evidently  raised  up  for 
the  emergency,  the  Lord  had  his  fitting  instruments 
prepared."  * 

Mr.  Candlish's  powers  in  debate  and  in  the  conduct 
of  business  led  to  his  having  some  of  the  most  impor- 
tant public  duties  in  the  Church  entrusted  to  him,  as 
new  and  greater  complications  arose ;  especially  from  the 
course  pursued  by  the  Presbytery  of  Strathbogie,  in  the 
Marnoch  case.  The  majority  of  that  Church  Court  re- 
solved, in  disobedience  to  the  express  inju.nctions  of  their 
ecclesiastical  superiors,  and  in  deference  to  the  Civil 
Court,  to  ordain  to  the  charge  of  the  parish  of  ]\Iar- 
noch  a  man,  against  whom  the  whole  congregation 
solemnly  protested  ;  and  it  became  necessary  to  suspend 
them  from  their  office,  not  as  a  punishment,  but  simply 
to  prevent  their  committing  this  gross  outrage  in  the 
name  of  the  Church.  A  special  meeting  of  the  Com- 
mission of  Assembly  was  held  in  December  1839,  at 
which  Mr.  Candlish  moved,  and  carried  by  a  majority 
of  121  to  14,  the  suspension  of  seven  ministers  of  the 
Presbytery  of  Strathbogie. 

Immediately  thereupon  he  had  to  go  down  to  that 

*  Ten  Years'  Conflict,  vol.  i.  pp.  460-1.— Ed.  1854. 


XVI  PEEFACE, 

district,  along  with  Mr.  Cunningham  and  others,  to  inti- 
mate in  the  parishes  of  the  several  suspended  ministers 
the  sentence  that  had  just  been  pronounced.  But  before 
this  could  be  done,  these  ministers  had  obtained  an 
interdict  from  the  Court  of  Session  against  the  sentence 
being  intimated  in  their  parish  churches,  churchyards, 
or  schools.  This  interdict,  though  it  was  held  to  be  unjust 
and  oppressive,  was  without  hesitation  obeyed  ;  because 
it  related  only  to  the  use  of  premises  which  were  the 
property  of  the  State,  and  so  within  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  Civil  Court.  Accordingly,  it  was  in  the  open  air 
that  Mr.  Candlish  preached  at  Huntly,  and  other  minis- 
ters in  the  other  parishes,  intimating  the  suspension  of 
the  ministers,  and  supplying  ordinances  to  their  people. 

Soon  afterwards,  however,  the  Court  of  Session,  on 
the  application  of  these  ministers,  granted  an  extended 
interdict,  forbidding  any  ministers  of  the  Established 
Church  to  preach  anywhere  within  these  parishes 
without  the  authority  of  the  legal  incumbents.  As  this 
interdict  interfered  directly  with  the  purely  spiritual 
function  of  preaching  the  gospel,  it  was  deliberately 
disregarded ;  and  the  most  grave  and  godly  ministers 
of  the  Church  willingly  went,  at  her  appointment,  to 
dispense  the  means  of  grace  among  the  people  whose 
ministers  had  been  suspended.  Mr,  Candlish  was  not 
sent  on  this  duty  till  the  spring  of  1841,  when  he  again 
preached  in  Huntly,  this  time  in  a  new  place  of  wor- 
ship that  had  been  built  by  voluntary  contributions. 

This  act,  though  it  was  in  no  way  different  from 
what  the  evangelical  ministers  of  the  Church  of  Scot- 


PREFACE.  XVll 

land  had  been  systematically  doing  for  a  year  past,  was 
made  the  occasion  of  depriving  him  of  an  appointment 
for  which  he  was  highly  qualified.  By  the  recommenda- 
tion of  a  Royal  Commission,  the  Government  had  re- 
solved to  institute  a  Chair  of  Biblical  Criticism  in  the 
University  of  Edinburgh ;  and  Mr.  Candlish  was  nomi- 
nated as  its  first  occupant.  The  appointment  was  all  but 
completed,  when  Lord  Aberdeen  made  a  violent  attack 
upon  him  in  the  House  of  Lords,  alleging  that  he  had 
violated  the  law  by  preaching  at  Huutly  about  a  fort- 
night before  ;  and,  in  consequence  of  this.  Lord  Nor- 
manby,  the  Home  Secretary,  cancelled  the  appointment. 
In  his  published  letter  to  Lord  Normanbyon  this  subject, 
which  at  the  time  made  a  deep  impression,  Mr.  Candlish 
vindicated  himself  from  the  charge  of  breaking  the  law, 
and  pointed  out  the  deep-rooted  convictions  and  high 
principles  that  were  involved  in  the  unhappy  conflict 
between  the  Church  and  the  Civil  Courts. 

In  the  Assembly  that  followed,  he  melted  and  almost 
carried  away  the  whole  house  by  his  persuasive  and 
pathetic  appeal  to  the  Moderate  party  to  acquiesce  in 
the  passing  of  the  Duke  of  Argyll's  Bill,  which  would 
have  put  an  end  to  the  conflict.  This  and  other  attempts 
at  an  adjustment  proved  vain  ;  and  matters  went  on  into 
further  complications;  till  at  length,  the  House  of  Lords, 
having  finally  decided  the  claim  of  the  Church  to  spirit- 
ual freedom  to  be  illegal,  and  the  Ministry  and  Parlia- 
ment having  declined  to  give  any  relief,  the  ministers 
who  supported  that  claim,  474  in  number,  among  whom 
was  Dr.  Candlish,  separated  from  the  State,  and  resigned 


A 


xviii  PEEFACE. 

their  livings  in  connection  with  the  Scottish  Establish- 
ment in  May  1843. 

In  the  various  discussions  and  negotiations  that  pre- 
ceded this  event,  as  well  as  in  the  labours  needed  for 
building  up  the  Church  in  her  disestablished  state,  Dr. 
Candlish  (who  had  received  the  degree  of  D.D.  from 
Princeton  College,  New  Jersey,  in  1841)  took  an  active 
and  leading  part.  He  made  numerous  journeys,  both 
in  Scotland  and  England,  advocating  the  principles  of 
the  Free  Church,  and  extending  her  organisation.  He 
took  charge,  at  different  times,  of  various  of  the  schemes 
of  the  Church,  more  especially  of  that  for  Education, 
having  been  convener  of  that  committee  from  1846  to 
1863.  Yet,  in  the  midst  of  all  this  public  activity,  he 
kept  up  his  pulpit  and  pastoral  work,  and  attached  more 
and  more  closely  to  him  the  large  and  intelligent  con- 
gregation of  St.  George's. 

During  the  Assembly  of  1847,  the  sudden  and 
lamented  death  of  Dr.  Chalmers  created  a  vacancy  in 
one  of  the  chairs  of  Theology  in  the  New  College  ;  and 
in  August  of  that  year  Dr.  Candlish  was  appointed 
Professor  by  the  Commission  of  Assembly.  As  he 
had  ever  a  strong  conviction  of  the  superior  im- 
portance of  the  training  of  the  Church's  future  minis- 
ters, compared  with  the  pastorate  of  any  one  congre- 
gation; he  accepted  the  appointment,  and  preached  a 
farewell  sermon  to  the  people  of  St.  George's.  But  on 
this  occasion,  as  on  the  former  one,  he  was  providentially 
hindered  from  exchanging  the  work  of  the  pastorate  for 
that  of  the  college.     The  congregation  of  St.  George's, 


•     PREFACE.  XIX 

with  one  hecart  and  voice,  had  chosen  as  his  successor  the 
gifted  and  pious  Alexander  Stewart  of  Cromarty ;  but 
before  he  could  be  inducted  into  the  charge,  his  sensitive 
nature  had  given  way  under  the  strain  and  burden  of 
the  prospect,  and  he  died  November  5,  1847.  This  sud- 
den stroke  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  congregation 
and  on  Dr.  Candlish,  who,  feeling  that  his  heart  was  too 
much  with  his  afflicted  people  to  give  himself  wholly 
to  the  work  of  his  chair,  requested,  and  was  allowed  by 
the  College  Committee,  to  continue  the  charge  of  St. 
George's  during  the  winter,  meeting  the  students  only 
once  a  week  for  the  study  of  Butler's  Analogy.  At  next 
Assembly,  having  been  led  to  think  that  his  call  to  the 
professorial  office  was  not  so  strong  as  he  had  sup- 
posed, he  formally  resigned  the  chair,  and  was  restored 
to  the  ministry  of  St.  George's. 

He  continued  to  lead  his  people  in  active  Christian 
work  ;  and  besides  the  home  mission  work  that  was 
constantly  carried  on  in  the  original  parish  of  St.  George's, 
the  territorial  missionary  congregations  of  Fountain- 
bridge  (out  of  which  grew  the  Barclay  and  A^iewforth 
churches)  and  Eoseburn,  were  originated,  and  fostered 
into  strenfrth  and  vicfour,  under  his  care.  His  labours 
in  the  general  administration  of  the  Church's  business  it 
is  not  possible  even  to  enumerate  here,  much  less  to 
describe.  He  always  took  a  peculiar  and  warm  interest 
in  the  more  directly  spiritual  part  of  the  Church's  work, 
such  as  the  promotion  of  vital  religion,  evangelistic 
labours  in  our  own  country,  and  missions  to  the  Jews 
and  heathen  abroad. 


XX  PREFACE. 

Nor  was  "he  inactive  in  the  field  of  literature,  edify- 
ing the  Church  of  Christ  by  his  popular  and  practical 
works,  and,  when  necessary,  defending  in  controversy 
her  fundamental  doctrines.  In  1842  he  published  the 
first  volume  of  his  "  Contributions  towards  the  exposition 
of  the  Book  of  Genesis,"  afterwards  completed  in  three 
volumes.  In  1845  an  incidental  newspaper  correspond- 
ence called  forth  from  him  a  small  volume  "  On  the 
Atonement,"  which  was  recast  and  enlarged  in  1861. 
In  1854,  being  invited  to  lecture  to  the  London  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association  in  Exeter  Hall,  he  took  the 
occasion  to  review  the  teaching  of  the  Eev.  F.  D.  Maurice, 
in  his  "  Theological  Essays,"  then  just  published  ;  and  he 
issued  along  with  his  lecture  a  detailed  "  Examination" 
of  that  work. 

But  the  accumulated  toils  of  what  was  virtually 
three  lives  in  one — that  of  a  city  minister,  of  a  church 
leader,  and  of  a  theological  writer — told  upon  his  consti- 
tution ;  and,  in  the  spring  of  1860,  Dr.  Candlish  had  a 
severe  illness,  by  which  he  was  laid  aside  for  several 
months.  In  the  following  year,  he  consented  to  the 
proposal  of  his  congregation  to  have  the  help  of  a  col- 
league ;  and  the  Eev.  J.  0.  Dykes  was  inducted  in  that 
capacity,  December  19,  1861,  and  continued  to  fill  the 
office  till  1865,  when  he  resigned  his  charge  on  account 
of  ill  health. 

In  1861  Dr.  Candlish  occupied  the  chair  of  the 
General  Assenibly ;  and  in  the  following  year  he  was 
appointed  Principal  of  the  New  CoUege,  Edinburgh,  in 
the  room  of  Dr.  Cunningham,  who  died  December  14, 


PREFACE.  XXI 

18G1.  As  head  of  the  College  he  opened  and  closed  each 
session  with  an  address  to  the  students  ;  and  heard  and 
criticised  the  popular  sermons  which  they  are  required  to 
deliver.  AVhen  the  Cunningham  Lectureship  was  founded, 
Principal  Candlish  was  appointed  the  first  lecturer,  and 
delivered  his  course  on  the  "  Fatherhood  of  God "  in 
February  and  March  1864.  The  views  therein  expressed 
he  had  long  held  and  indicated  in  many  of  his  sermons, 
such  as  those  printed  in  the  Appendix  to  the  Lectures, 
and  in  his  subsequent  volume  "  On  the  Sonship  and 
Brotherhood  of  Believers."  But  they  appeared  new,  and 
even  dangerous,  to  certain  zealous  defenders  of  ortho- 
doxy ;  and  gave  rise  to  a  somewhat  keen  controversy. 
Dr.  Candlish's  Lectures  on  the  First  Epistle  of  John, 
which  were  written  and  preached  before  the  delivery 
of  the  Cunningham  Lectures,  though  not  published  till 
1866,  form,  as  it  were,  a  Biblical  illustration  and  prac- 
tical application  of  them. 

Meanwhile  his  health  was  becoming  ever  more 
broken  and  uncertain  ;  his  attacks  of  illness  were  more 
frequent  and  severe  ;  though  his  zeal  and  devotedness 
to  the  cause  of  Christ  and  his  Church  never  flagged.  He 
was  more  especially  active  and  earnest  in  the  negotia- 
tions for  union  among  the  unestablished  Presbyterian 
churches  in  Scotland,  which  were  carried  on  from  1863 
to  1873  ;  though  unhappily  without  attaining  the  great 
object  aimed  at.  In  1871-2  he  was.  laid  aside  from 
all  work,  for  eleven  months,  by  a  severe  and  exhausting 
illness  ;  but,  in  the  winter  of  1872-3,  he  was  permitted 
again  to  occupy  his  pulpit,  and  preached  to  his  beloved 


XXii  PREFACE. 

people  on  most  of  tlie  Sabbaths  of  that  season.  The 
burden,  however,  of  the  congregational  work  had  been 
necessarily  devolved  on  the  Kev.  A.  Whyte,  who,  since 
his  induction  as  colleague  in  October  1870,  had  in  every 
way  consulted  for  his  comfort  and  relief,  and  in  whom 
he  placed  the  utmost  confidence. 

In  the  weeks  preceding  the  Assembly  his  strength 
was  much  reduced,  and  the  effort  that  he  then  made  to 
take  part  in  its  proceedings  was  a  great  strain  upon 
him.  He  preached  only  twice  after  it — for  the  last 
time  on  the  15th  of  June.  The  three  following  months 
he  spent  at  Whitby,  returning  to  Edinburgh  in  the  end 
of  September. 

The  decline  of  his  strength  now  became  more  rapid  ; 
and  from  the  10th  of  October  his  medical  advisers  began 
to  fear  that  he  would  not  rally.  When  they  told  him 
their  opinion,  he  fully  realised  and  calmly  faced  the 
prospect  before  him  ;  and  it  made  no  change  whatever 
upon  him.  He  gave  his  last  directions  with  his  wonted 
exactness,  and  with  perfect  composure  ;  he  was  cheerful 
and  happy,  and  took  an  interest  in  passing  events  to  the 
last ;  he  was  affectionately  mindful  of  all  his  friends, 
present  and  absent,  and  bade  a  loving  farewell  to  those  of 
them  whom  he  was  able  to  see.  He  delighted  to  hear 
his  favourite  texts  and  hymns,  those  most  full  of  Christ ; 
and  without  either  great  exaltation  or  depression,  but 
"  knowing  whom  he  had  believed,"  he  calmly  waited  for 
the  end,  and  peacefully  fell  asleep  just  before  midnight 
on  Sabbath,  October  19th. 

It  has  been  thought  weU  to  furnish,  in  this  brief 


PREFACE.  xxiii 

form,  the  outstanding  facts  of  Dr.  Candlisli's  life.  Such 
a  biography  as  many  friends  have  expressed  their  wish 
to  have  must  necessarily  be  a  work  of  time  and  much 
care.  Meanwhile  it  is  hoped  that  the  present  collection 
of  sermons,  with  this  brief  biographical  sketch,  will  form 
an  acceptable  memorial  volume.  The  occasion  on 
which  the  first  sermon  Avas  preached  led  to  its  being 
placed  as  introductory  to  the  others,  which,  as  taken 
from  various  periods  of  his  ministry,  from  its  beginning 
in  St.  Andrew's,  Glasgow,  to  its  close,  will  witness  to 
his  fidelity  to  the  resolution  to  know  nothing  among 
his  people  but  Jesus  Christ  and  him  crucified. 


SOWEES  AND  EEAPEES.* 

"And  herein  is  that  saying  true,  One  soweth,  and  another  reapeth." 

John  iy.  37. 

'When  our  Lord,  in  answer  to  the  invitation  of  his  disciples, 
"  Master,  eat,"  says  Avith  seeming  abruptness,  "  I  have  meat  to 
eat  that  ye  know  not  of"  (vers.  31,  32),  he  does  not  mean 
coldly  and  rudely  to  reject  their  i^roffered  kindness,  but 
rather  he  would  turn  that  kindness  to  higher  and  holier 
account  than  they  themselves  intended.  It  was  not  that 
their  care  for  his  bodily  necessities  was  to  him  impertinent 
or  offensive,  but  that  he  Avould  engage  and  interest  their  care 
in  what  was  to  him  far  more  urgent  than  any  supply  of  his 
temporal  necessities, — his  finishing  the  work  on  which  his 
heart  was  set,  and  doing  the  will  of  him  that  sent  him  (ver. 
34).  The  solicitude  which  they  showed  for  his  personal 
comfort  could  not  but  be  grateful  as  a  mark  of  personal 
attachment ;  for  we  know  how  readily  he  was  touched  by 
even  the  shghtest  service  sincerely  rendered  :  how  he  took 
in  good  part  the  very  least  of  the  common  offices  of  civility 
and  friendship.  He  who  gratefully  accepted  the  woman's 
testimony  of  regard  as  being  all  that  she  could  offer  (Mark 
xiv.  8),  surely  did  not  intend  to  meet  and  mock  by  a  cold  and 
churhsh  refusal  the  affectionate  importunity  of  his  followers  ; 

*  Preached  in  St.  George's  Church,  Edinburgh,  in  the  afternoon  of 
I7th  August  1834,  the  first  Sabbath  after  ordination  <ind  induction  as 
minister  of  that  church  and  parish.  The  Rev.  Dr.  Smyth,  of  St. 
George's,  GLasgow,  preached  in  the  forenoon  of  that  Sabbath. 

B 


2  SOWERS  AND  EEAPEES. 

who,  in  their  consideration  for  his  comfort,  knowing  how 
urgently  he  needed  refreshment,  prayed  him  to  eat.  But, 
as  when  Martha  was  careful  and  troubled  about  much 
service  for  his  personal  accommodation,  he  thought  it  neces- 
sary to  intimate  how  much  he  preferred,  above  her  well- 
meant  officiousness  of  hospitable  attention  to  her  guest,  her 
sister's  devout  and  dutiful  earnestness  as  she  sat  at  the  feet 
of  her  teacher  and  her  Saviour  :  so  here,  without  under- 
valuing the  sympathy  of  his  disciples  as  it  extended  to  the 
necessities  of  his  earthly  condition,  he  would  claim  and 
challenge  that  very  sympathy  for  the  nobler  aim  of  his 
heavenly  calling,  on  which  his  own  desires  were  more 
intensely  fixed ;  not  that  he  would  have  had  them  to  give 
less  heed  to  his  wants  as  man,  but  more  to  his  work  and 
warfare  as  Son  of  God. 

For  this  was  their  main  defect  during  their  attendance  upon 
Christ,  and  before  the  Spirit  showed  them  the  things  of  Christ. 
Much  as  they  were  attached  to  his  person,  they  felt  compara- 
tively but  little  interest  in  the  design  of  his  ministry.  Wit- 
nessing, in  the  intimacy  of  daily  and  familiar  converse,  all  his 
meek  and  holy  graces,  experiencing  all  his  tender  love,  they 
loved  their  master  in  return  with  deepest  gratitude  and 
warmest  friendship.  But  they  understood  little  of  his  cha- 
racter as  the  Anointed  of  the  Lord, — the  Saviour  of  his  people 
from  their  sins.  They  regarded  him  with  strong  affection  on 
account  of  his  human  excellences,  with  dark  and  doubtful 
faith  in  his  divine  power  and  prerogative  of  salvation.  We 
see  this  spirit  in  the  desponding,  yet  still  faithful,  affection 
of  the  apostle  Thomas,  when,  hearing  his  Master's  determi- 
nation to  go  up  to  Jerusalem,  there  inevitably  to  fall  a 
victim  to  his  enemies,  he  said  to  his  fellow-disciples,  "Let  us 
also  go,  that  we  may  die  with  him."  He  had  little  faith,  but 
strong  love  ;  he  had  no  hope  beyond  his  master's  death,  yet 
he   was  willing  to  die   along  with  him.      The   same  spirit 


SOWERS  AND  REAPERS.  3 

imparts  a  touching  and  tender  interest  to  the  demeanour  of  the 
disciples  after  the  death  of  Jesus.  Tliey  had  seen  him  perish 
on  the  cross.  They  concluded  that  all  was  over.  Their 
vague  expectations  of  his  triumph  Avere  disappointed ;  their 
pleasing  dream  of  hope  Avas  past.  Yet  still  there  lingered  in 
their  breasts  a  fond  regard  for  one  who  had  been  so  dear  a 
friend.  They  could  not  bear  to  think  of  him  as  an  impostor. 
They  delighted  to  speak  of  all  his  works.  And  there  is  much 
of  mournful  kindliness  of  feeling  in  their  pathetic  expression 
of  regret,  "  We  trusted  that  it  had  been  he  which  should 
have  redeemed  Israel"  (Luke  xxiv.  21). 

Something  then  of  this  spirit,  even  now  not  uncommon, 
of  earthly  attachment  to  the  person  of  God's  minister,  com- 
bined with  much  ignorance  and  disregard  of  his  ministry, — 
something  of  this  our  Lord  saw  on  the  present  occasion, 
in  the  affectionate  solicitude  of  his  disciples  about  his 
bodily  comfort,  as  contrasted  with  their  indifference  about 
the  work  in  which  they  found  him  engaged,  the  work  of 
preaching  the  gospel  of  salvation,  fulfilling  all  righteousness, 
and  laying  the  foundation  of  his  spiritual  kingdom.  This 
work  is  more  important  in  his  esteem  than  necessary  food ; 
"  My  meat  is  to  do  the  will  of  him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish 
his  work  "  (ver.  34).  And  in  this  work  he  would  have  his 
followers  to  be  as  deeply  interested  as  himself.  He  wo  aid 
have  them  to  show  their  love  to  his  person  by  their  sympathy 
in  his  work.  He  calls  them,  and  he  calls  us,  to  work  along 
with  him  ;  to  work  in  the  great  spiritual  harvest  of  grace  then 
and  now  going  on,  preparatory  to  the  coming  harvest  of 
judgment ;  to  labour  in  gathering  in  the  ripe  crop  of  God's 
elect  church,  a  people  prepared  and  made  willing  in  the  day 
of  his  power.  He  tells  them,  and  he  tells  us,  of  the  good 
even  now  to  be  done,  and  of  the  urgent  necessity  of  doing  it, 
— of  the  many  souls  ready  to  be  added  to  the  church  if  we 
will  but  put  forth  our  hand  in  faith  and  prayer  to  bring  them 


4  SOWEES  AND  REAPERS. 

in.  Do  not  say  that  months  must  elapse  before  the  harvest. 
"  Lift  up  your  eyes  and  look  on  the  fields,  for  they  are  white 
already  to  harvest "  (ver.  35).  Then  by  way  of  encouragement 
he  tells  them  of  a  rich  reward  and  sure  success  in  their 
labour  :  "  He  that  reapeth  receiveth  wages,  and  gathereth  fruit 
unto  life  eternal"  (ver.  36).  And  he  tells  them  also  of  the 
manner  of  the  work, — its  distribution  among  a  succession  of 
labourers,  each  preparing  for  his  follower,  and  each  reaping 
the  fruit  of  his  predecessor's  toil, — "  Herein  is  that  saying  true, 
One  soweth,  and  another  reapeth." 

Now  it  is  this  princijjle  of  distribution  and  succession 
among  the  labourers  in  the  gospel  harvest  that  I  propose 
to  consider.  And  as  all,  both  ministers  and  people,  profess 
in  their  several  spheres,  if  they  believe  the  gospel  at  all,  to 
be  labourers  in  this  work,  the  subject  concerns  us  all.  May 
the  Lord  carry  it  home  to  the  consciences  and  hearts  of  all. 
Let  ua  then, 

I.  Attend  to  the  reasonableness  of  the  arrangement  accord- 
ing to,  which,  in  the  labour  of  the  gospel  harvest,  the  winning 
of  souls  to  Chijist,  one  soweth  and  another  reapeth.    And  then, 

II.  Let  us  consider  the  practical  import  of  the  maxim. 

I.  The  reasonableness,  the  fitness,  the  propriety  of  the 
arrangement,  may  appear  from  two  considerations; — first,  its 
correspondence  with  the  constitution  of  human  nature  and 
human  life  ;  and  secondly,  its  harmony  with  the  plan  of  divine 
providence  in  the  dispensation  of  grace. 

(I.)  It  accords  with  the  constitution  of  human  nature  and 
human  life  that  one  should  sow  and  another  reap.  This,  as 
our  Lord  uses  it,  is  a  proverbial  saying,  a  general  maxim, 
founded  on  universal  observation,  and  universally  applicable 
in  human  allairs.  The  very  distinction,  the  special  charac- 
teristic of  man  as  an  intelligent  and  social  being,  lies  in  the 
truth  of  this  saying  ;  for  it  is  by  reason  of  his  intellectual  and 


SOWERS  AXD  REAPERS.  5 

social  capacities  that  the  saying,  as  regards  all  human  opera- 
tions, is  and  must  be  true.  It  could  not,  with  anything 
like  the  same  propriety,  be  affirmed  of  the  brutes  that  perish 
that  among  tliem  one  soweth  and  another  reapeth.  They, 
guided  by  unerring  instinct,  are  perfect  in  their  work  at 
once,  and  each  individual  is  competent  to  complete  its  own 
work.  And,  destitute  of  the  faculties  of  reason  and  of 
speech,  they  cannot  improve  upon  one  another's  designs 
and  doings  ;  tliey  cannot  take  up  and  carry  on  one  another's 
labours ;  each  must  begin  anew  for  itself,  and  stop  just 
where  its  predecessor  stopped.  Hence  the  uniform  and 
exquisite  perfection  of  then-  workmanship  on  the  very  first 
attempt ;  hence  its  no  greater  perfection  at  the  very  last. 
Men,  however,  by  the  use  of  understanding  and  of  language, 
can  improve  themselves,  and  communicate  their  improvements 
to  one  another.  And  hence  the  transmission  of  stores  of 
knowledge,  and  facilities  of  applying  it,  through  successive 
individuals  and  generations  ;  the  common  stock  receiving 
fresh  accessions  and  accumulations  as  it  passes  from  mind  to 
mind,  from  hand  to  hand.  Each  takes  up  his  predecessor's 
half-done  work,  and  uses  it  as  the  material  of  his  own.  At 
each  successive  stage  some  addition  is  made  to  the  amount 
collected  before.  One  begins  what  another  is  to  carry  on  and 
complete.     "  One  soweth  and  another  reapeth." 

It  is  this  wliich  renders  the  education  of  the  individual 
man  possible  ;  this  capacity  of  reaping  what  is  sown  by  others, 
easily  receiving  impressions  from  without,  and  turning  them  to 
account,  so  as  to  make  them  fruitful  of  new  principles.  The 
active  mind,  energetically  following  out  the  various  impulses 
and  influences  to  which  it  is  exposed,  enlarges  its  resources 
and  advances  in  knowledge  and  in  power.  The  seed  sown 
by  intellectual  and  moral  culture  to-day  is  reaped  in  a  large 
increase  of  intellectual  and  moral  energy  to-morrow.  And, 
considering  how  many  persons  and  cii'cumstances  have  part 


b  SOWEES  AND   EEAPERS. 

in  this  process  of  training,  each  in  turn  more  or  less  con- 
cerned in  carrying  the  process  forward ;  through  how  many 
hands,  whether  rude  or  skilful,  the  pliant  and  plastic  soul 
passes  in  its  progress  through  this  scene  of  its  development ; 
and  how  tliese  all,  as  they  successively  take  it  up,  do  some- 
thing towards  promoting  or  modifying  its  growth ;  we  may 
well  say  in  regard  to  the  whole  of  this  marvellously  compli- 
cated agency,  connecting  the  first  bias  given,  through  a  long 
series  of  mutually  dependent  influences,  with  the  final  and 
permanent  character  impressed  ; — "  One  soweth,  and  another 
reapeth ;"  one  hegins  what  another  is  to  carry  on  and  complete  ; 
one  labours,  and  another  enters  into  his  labour. 

And  the  same  law  holds  in  the  progress  of  society.  In 
virtue  of  our  capacities  of  reason  and  speech,  by  which  we 
think  and  receive  the  thoughts  of  others,  one  soweth,  and 
another  reapeth.  And  so,  in  the  race  as  well  as  in  the  indi- 
vidual, advance  or  improvement  goes  on.  This  susceptibility 
of  advance,  we  repeat,  is  the  very  thing  which  distinguishes 
from  the  instinct  of  the  inferior  animals  the  reason  of  man. 
Instinct  is  perfect  at  once  ;  and  therefore  not  progressive. 
Eeason  is  far  from  perfect  in  the  beginning  ;  but  then  it  is  pro- 
gressive. Under  the  impulse  of  blind  instinct,  what  is  done 
is  done  unerringly  by  all  individuals  and  all  races,  and  done 
alike  by  all;  and  there  all  are  stationary.  Under  the  guidance 
of  reason,  individuals  and  races  of  men  learn  by  experience, 
and  so  may  be  always  advancing.  The  ants  who  prepare  their 
meat  in  summer,  the  conies  who  make  their  houses  in  the  rocks, 
the  locusts  who  have  no  king,  yet  go  forth  by  bands,  the  spider 
who  taketli  hold  with  her  hands, — these  all  are  exceeding 
wise  (Prov.  xxx.  24-28).  Their  several  processes  are  executed 
in  more  consummate  wisdom  than  any  of  the  works  of  man. 
But  the  wisdom  is  not  their  own.  It  guides  them  surely,  yet 
blindly ;  so  that,  as  they  never  fall  short  of  the  specifically 
appointed  work,  so  neither  do  they  go  beyond  it.     The  indi- 


SOWERS  AND  EEAPERS.  7 

vidual  does  not  improve  upon  his  first  attempt,  and  the  pre- 
sent race  is  none  the  better  for  all  the  exceeding  wisdom  of 
its  predecessor.  But  man,  as  a  rational  and  social  being,  is 
capable  of  advance  to  which  scarcely  any  limits  can  be  assigned. 
Coarse  and  clumsy  as  his  early  essays  may  be,  successive  efforts 
give  increased  facilities.  And  so,  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion, the  process  of  improvement  goes  always  on. 

It  is  thus  that  all  the  noble  triumphs  of  science  and  art 
which  have  most  signalised  our  race  have  been  achieved ;  by 
the  operation  of  this  law  of  our  rational  and  social  nature,  one 
soweth,  and  another  reapeth.    Earely  is  any  great  work  begun, 
continued,  and  ended  by  the  wisdom  of  the  same  mind,  by  the 
might  of  the  same  hand.     There  have  been  changes  or  relays 
of  workmen,  each  contributing  to  bring  it  to  perfection.     The 
element  of  power,  discovered  by  one,  has  been  unfolded  by 
another,  applied  by  a  third,  and  improved  by  a  fourth.     The 
vast  and  comprehensive   grasp  of  a  commanding  intellect 
seizes  and  embraces  a  principle ;    sound   practical  sagacity 
takes  and  betters  the   hint ;   an  adventurous  spirit   makes 
the  experiment ;    successive  observations   suggest   improve- 
ments ;   new  difficulties  are  overcome   as  they  occur ;   new 
expedients    are   resorted   to  ;    till,    at    last,    through    many 
different  processes,  the  invention  arrives  at  a  maturity,  and 
is  applied  to  a  thousand  uses  and  purposes,  of  which  the 
original  author  of  the  whole  never  dreamed.     But  he  sowed, 
and  others  reaped.     His  attainments  became  the  property  of 
others,  and  a  stock  on  hand  for  them  to  trade  with.     And  so 
the  intellectual  and  moral  wealth  of  society  is  always  growing. 
What  indeed  in  this  day  is  our  boasted  civilization  but  the 
reaping  of  what  others  have  sown  1     We  stand  indebted  for 
all  its  blessings  to  the  men  of  former  generations.     For  us 
they  laboured  rather  than  for  themselves  ;  and  we  are  entered 
into  their  labours.     We  are  availing  ourselves  of  stores  which 
they  collected  ;  using  instruments  which  they  devised ;  taking 


8  SOWERS  AND  EEAPERS. 

up  and  carrying  on,  in  liundreds  of  ways  unknown  to  them, 
the  works  which  they  began.  Could  these  mighty  intellects, 
these  master  minds,  on  the  intense  lustre  of  whose  glory  we 
fix  our  eyes  amazed,  see  us  now,  gathering  so  familiarly  and 
so  wondrously  the  fruits  of  their  high  thought  and  toil,  they 
would  be  scarcely  less  amazed  themselves.  A  school-boy  idly 
lounges  over  the  mysteries  of  Newton's  study ;  a  child  com- 
mands the  giant  power  which  Watt  trembled  to  evoke  :  and 
unthinkingly,  and  almost  unconsciously,  we  turn  to  account 
the  resources  they  have  left  as  a  precious  legacy  to  mankind, 
for  transacting  our  homeliest  household  avocations,  as  well  as 
for  wielding  our  empire  over  all  the  elements. 

And  other  blessings  there  are,  more  precious  far  than 
the  results  of  science  and  art,  which  flow  to  us  according  to 
this  arrangement ;  the  blessings  of  our  free  constitution,  our 
civil  rights,  our  religious  privileges.  Herein  emphatically 
is  the  saying  true;  "One  soweth,  and  another  reapeth : 
other  men  laboured,  and  ye  are  entered  into  their  labours." 
The  patrios  of  other  days  who  sprang  up  in  quick  succes- 
sion, each  in  his  turn  catching  the  mantle  as  it  fell,  and 
grasping  the  torch  from  the  hand  of  his  precursor  in  the 
glorious  race,  animated  by  the  same  spirit,  pressing  on  to 
the  same  goal, — these  all  toiled  and  suffered  and  died,  not  for 
themselves  alone,  but  for  us.  By  many  sacrifices  and  at  much 
hazard  these  have  laid  the  foundation  of  that  peace  and  those 
godly  institutions  which  we  by  inheritance  enjoy.  And  shall 
we  lightly  cast  away  the  hallowed  fruits  of  their  undaunted 
zeal?  Shall  we  tamely  renounce  the  struggle  which  they 
maintained  1 — refuse  to  enter  into  the  labours  which  they 
have  handed  down  to  \\s1 — to  carry  on  their  workl  —  to 
carry  out  their  principles  1  and  so  transmit  to  our  children 
those  privileges  of  our  birthright  which  our  fathers  have 
transmitted  to  us  1  Such  then  being  the  universal  law  of 
human    nature   and   human    life,   it   is  quite   according   to 


SOWERS  AND  REAPERS.  9 

analogy  that  it  should  hold  good  in  reference  to  religion,  and 
the  progress  of  the  kingdom  of  God  in  the  soul  and  in  the 
world; — that  there  too  the  labour  should  be  distributed 
through  a  succession  of  labourers  ;  all  working  into  one 
another's  hands  and  passing  on  the  task  or  pleasure  of  alter- 
nate sowing  and  reaping,  of  sowing  and  reaping  by  turns, 
from  mind  to  mind,  from  generation  to  generation  ;  until  all 
is  finished  ;  the  last  seed-time  over  ;  the  harvest  all  gathered 
in  ;  and  the  tiiue  fully  come  for  him  that  soweth  and  him 
that  reapeth  to  rejoice  together. 

(II.)  But  this  law  is  especially  to  be  regarded  as  being  in 
admirable  keeping  and  consistency  with  the  plan  of  divine 
providence  as  we  have  the  key  to  it  in  the  dispensation  of 
grace.  As  a  law  of  nature,  it  is  generally  applicable  to  all 
sorts  of  schemes  conducted  among  men.  As  a  law  of 
providence,  it  is  more  especially  applicable  to  the  scheme  of 
saving  mercy  revealed  in  the  gospel. 

1.  The  very  adjustment,  so  to  speak,  of  that  scheme  in  the 
counsels  of  the  Infinite  Mind  involves  the  law.  The  allotment 
of  the  several  departments  of  this  mighty  and  mysterious  work 
of  redemption  among  the  several  persons  of  the  Godhead, — is 
it  not  on  this  very  principle,  that  one  soweth,  and  another 
reapeth  1  and  is  it  not  intended  to  turn  the  principle  to 
account  for  the  more  illustrious  exhibition  of  the  divine 
glory  in  the  salvation  of  a  guilty  world  ?  Why  this  threefold 
agency  1  this  successive  transmission  of  the  momentous 
business  to  be  transacted,  from  the  Father  to  the  Son,  and 
then  from  the  Father  and  the  Son  to  the  Holy  Spirit  ? 
The  Father  commissioning  the  Son  ;  the  Father  and  the  Son 
commissioning  again  the  Spirit ;  and  all  for  the  appointing, 
and  accomplishing,  and  apjilying  or  carrying  forward,  of  one 
and  the  self-same  work,  the  salvation  of  the  lost '?  Why 
so  cumbrous  and  costly  and  complicated  an  arrangement  ? 
Why  so  marvellous  a  distribution  of  the  parts  or  otiices  to  be 


10  SOWERS  AND  REAPERS. 

sustained  in  tliis  economy,  in  order  to  the  gracious  inter- 
position of  the  ever- blessed  Trinity  on  man's  behalf  1  Why 
might  not  a  simple  act  of  divine  power,  a  simple  exercise  of 
divine  prerogative,  at  once  repair  the  evil  done  by  the  Fall, 
reverse  the  sentence  incurred,  and  so  accomplish  on  the 
instant  the  end  aimed  at  1  Why  so  tedious  and  complicated 
a  process  as  that  of  which  Scripture  unfolds  to  us  the  gradual 
fulfilment  1  Why  so  solemn  a  consulting  and  covenanting 
of  the  Godhead,  so  express  a  combination  of  the  love  of  the 
Father,  the  grace  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  fellowship  of 
the  Spirit,  all  tending,  and  tending  througli  a  series  and  suc- 
cession of  operations,  to  one  grand  result ;  which,  as  it  might 
seem,  might  have  been  more  easily  and  promptly  achieved  1 
Why,  but  that  through  such  an  arrangement,  the  wisdom  and 
power  and  holiness  and  love  of  God  might  be  made  more 
manifest ;  so  that  the  work  might  be  more  gloriously  and 
effectually  secured  1 

We  see  the  Father  offended,  yet  still  willing,  waiting,  to 
be  gracious  ;  firm  to  maintain,  in  the  character  of  Judge,  the 
high  authority  of  his  insulted  government,  of  his  violated  law, 
yet  full  of  tender  compassion  to  transgressors  ;  inflexible  in 
his  determination  to  vindicate  holiness  and  visit  sin,  yet  still 
loving  sinners,  reluctant  to  inflict  upon  them  even  righteously 
deserved  woe,  seeking  their  return  and  reconciliation  to  him- 
self. And  for  tlie  consistent  and  harmonious  adjustment  of 
these  two  ends,  for  exercising  the  mercy  in  which  he  delights 
without  compromising  justice,  or  relaxing  that  judgment 
which,  though  his  strange,  is  yet  his  indispensable  work  ; 
we  see  him  deputing  and  delegating  the  task,  which  it  was 
impossible  for  man  or  angel  successfully  to  execute,  to  the 
Son  of  his  love,  the  Eternal  Word  ;  committing,  as  by  solemn 
treaty,  to  him  the  charge  of  vindicating  the  honour  of  the 
law  by  his  obedience  unto  death,  and  assigning  as  the  reward 


SOWERS  AND  REAPERS.  11 

of  his  humiliation,  the  purchase  of  his  pain  and  the  travail 
of  his  soul,  an  elect  and  redeemed  seed. 

And  now  the  Son  takes  up  the  arduous  labour,  and  proceeds 
to  execute  the  gracious  plan.  'No  other  sacrifice  or  offering 
would  suffice ;  then  said  he,  "  Lo,  I  come  ;  in  the  volume  of 
the  book  it  is  written  of  me  ;  I  delight  to  do  thy  will,  0  God." 
And  in  the  fulness  of  time  he  came.  He  who  was  in  the  form 
of  God  came  in  the  likeness  of  men.  And  becoming  obedient 
unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the  cross,  enduring  its  dark 
agony  and  all  its  curse,  the  hiding  of  his  Father's  countenance, 
the  doom  our  sin  deserved,  he  could  say  of  the  work  given 
him  to  do,  and  the  bitter  cup  given  him  to  drink,  as  he 
bowed  liis  head  and  gave  up  the  ghost,  "  It  is  finished  !  "  So 
his  part  is  done. 

Another  part  is  yet  to  do.  Another  agent  comes,  to 
execute  another  office ;  the  Spirit  of  truth,  whom  the  Son, 
when  he  ascended  up  on  high,  sends  to  carry  forward  his 
own  work,  to  take  of  what  is  his  and  show  it  to  the  souls 
of  men.  The  proper  office  of  the  Son  is  discharged  when 
by  his  propitiatory  death  he  has  satisfied  divine  justice, 
and  opened  the  way  for  the  consistent  exercise  of  divine 
mercy  and  the  return  of  sinners  to  God.  And  now  the  office 
of  the  Spirit,  the  sanctifier  and  the  comforter,  begins  ;  that 
office  being  to  make  sinners  willing  to  return,  to  humble  the 
pride  of  natural  self-righteousness,  to  soften  the  hard  heart, 
to  charm  away  the  enmity  of  the  carnal  mind,  and  bring 
the  victim  of  devils,  meek  as  a  child,  clothed  and  in  his  right 
mind,  to  the  feet  of  Jesus  ; — the  self-convicted  rebel  to  the 
footstool  of  the  Sovereign  ; — the  relenting  prodigal  to  the 
home  and  bosom  of  the  Father  ! 

Thus  the  great  object  is  fully  accomplished,  God,  as  a  just 
God  and  a  Saviour,  is  glorified.  The  enemy  of  God  is  recon- 
ciled. Sin  is  condemned  while  the  sinner  is  converted  and 
saved.      "  0  the  depth  of  the  riches  both  of  the  wisdom  and 


12  so  WEES  AND   EEAPERS. 

knowledge  of  God  !  How  unsearchable  are  his  judgments, 
and  his  ways  past  finding  out  !  "  And  how  important,  in 
particular,  does  this  principle  of  the  distribution  of  office  or 
labour  appear,  when  we  see  it  illustrating  the  wisdom  and 
power  of  God  in  the  glorious  economy  of  salvation  1  For 
when,  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  tlie  Spirit  came  to  do  his 
part  of  the  wondrous  work,  when,  in  three  thousand  converted 
souls  the  fruit  of  the  Father's  holy  electing  love  and  of  the 
Son's  righteous  redeeming  grace  began  to  be  visibly  gathered 
in,  oh  !  how  emphatically  might  it  then  be  said  ;  "  Herein 
is  that  saying  true.  One  soweth,  and  another  reapeth." 

2.  As  the  work  is  distributed  in  the  counsels  of  heaven, 
so  is  it  also  in  the  agency  on  earth  ;  for  the  same  end,  the 
more  glorious  and  complete  illustration  of  the  divine  sover- 
eignty and  love.  For,  condescending  to  employ  agents  upon 
earth,  God  employs  them  so  as  to  demonstrate  the  neces- 
sity of  his  own  agency,  over  and  above  them  all.  And  for 
this  end,  he  so  arranges  the  labours  of  his  servants,  that, 
while  all  execute  their  several  parts,  to  himself  alone  shall 
belong  the  glory  of  uniting  and  combining  these  parts  into 
one  entire  plan.  So  it  is  in  human  affairs,  that  the  compre- 
hensive eye  of  him  who  surveys  and  superintends  the  manu- 
facture, looks  to  the  one  result  of  the  several  processes  in 
which  his  busy  operatives  are  successively  in  their  several 
departments  engaged  ;  and  takes  in  as  a  whole  the  work, 
in  the  distinct  and  separate  details  of  which  they  are 
exclusively  occupied.  In  the  trimming  of  a  vessel,  a  ship 
for  sea,  how  hard  are  all  hands  at  w^ork,  each  in  his  own 
department,  and  each  apparently  unmindful  of  his  neighbour. 
All  seems  utter  disorder  and  inextricable  confusion.  Eopes 
are  pulled  seemingly  at  random.  Sails  are  promiscuously  set 
and  shifted.  There  is  a  running  to  and  fro  upon  the  decks, 
and  a  constant  ascending  and  descending  by  the  masts.  All 
things  are  unsettled  and  out  of  joint.     Many  diflerent  opera- 


SOWEES   AND  REAPERS.  13 

tions  are  going  on  simultaneously,  and  as  it  ■would  seem 
independently.  A  stranger  is  fairly  bewildered,  and 
can  scarce  believe  but  that  he  lias  got  involved  in  the 
rout  and  riot  of  a  mutiny.  But  an  experienced  eye  sees 
order  and  unity  in  the  apparent  chaos.  He  sees  the 
labours  of  one  subordinated  to  the  labours  of  another,  and 
all  working,  without  much  thought  of  it  themselves,  for 
one  end.  He  knows  how  to  aj^preciate  the  intellect  which 
can  guide  so  simply  and  effectually  the  various  movements  of 
so  noisy  and  tumultuous  a  crew.  And  he  is  prepared  for  the 
graceful  courtesy  with  which,  all  being  adjusted,  the  stately 
vessel  is  to  sweep  on  in  her  majestic  course. 

Even  so,  in  some  such  way,  to  the  "  prmcipalities  and 
powers  in  heavenly  places  may  be  made  known,  by  the  church, 
the  manifold  wisdom  of  God"  (Eph.  iii.  10).  We  may  fancy 
there  would  be  more  glory,  were  God,  by  some  one  signal  and 
decisive  victory,  to  achieve  the  triumph  of  his  cause.  We  see 
not  the  necessity  or  the  advantage  of  so  many  independent  and 
detached  labourers.  And  yet,  rightly  considered,  it  is  the  very 
unconscious  union  and  mutual  subordination  of  these  labourers, 
in  order  to  one  great  end,  that  most  strikingly  declares  the 
wise  superintendence  of  one  who  causes  them  all  to  work  to- 
gether for  the  purpose  of  establishing  his  kingdom  on  the 
earth.  One,  by  God's  appointment,  soweth ;  another,  by 
God's  blessing,  reapeth.  Many  have  been  the  servants  of 
God,  at  sundry  times  and  in  divers  manners,  all  occupied  in 
forwarding  his  work ;  and  yet  the  labour  of  not  one  of  these 
is  in  itself  complete  ;  it  needs  to  be  united  to  that  of  the 
rest ;  others  must  enter  into  the  labour  to  render  it  at  all 
effectual.  Who  then  of  them  all  can  say  that  by  his  might, 
or  by  his  wisdom,  success  is  ultimately  attained  1  And  yet 
each  is  important  in  his  place  ;  not  one  of  them  can  be  dis- 
pensed with.  Prophets,  apostles,  evangelists,  martyrs,  con- 
fessors, all  in  their  several  spheres   are  required,  by  their 


14  SOWERS  AND   REAPERS. 

prayers  and  labours  and  sufferings  and  blood,  to  eke  out  one 
another's  imperfections,  and  carry  on  one  another's  plans  ;  the 
Lord  overruling  all,  and  by  means  of  all  advancing  the 
interests  of  his  church. 

How  grand,  how  glorious  will  this  arrangement  appear 
when  the  secret  history  of  the  church  is  unfolded ;  and  it 
is  seen  how  in  reference  to  all  its  great  events,  obscure 
and  unthought-of  saints  perhaps  have  contributed  each  his 
quota,  one  sowing  and  another  reaping,  and  all  content 
that  God  should  receive  the  praise  !  Nay,  how  striking, 
in  this  view,  in  the  day  when  the  secrets  of  all  hearts  are 
revealed,  may  the  history  of  a  single  sinner  converted, 
a  single  soul  saved,  appear  !  We  ascribe  it  now  perhaps 
to  the  agency  of  some  one  individual  whose  ivord  of  affec- 
tionate warning  was  blessed  for  the  working  of  a  salutary 
change.  He  indeed  may  have  reaped  ;  but  how  many  may 
have  been  concerned  in  sowing  the  seed  and  contributing  to 
advance  the  harvest  in  that  soul  1  Who  shall  say  how  many 
counsels  of  parental  love  have  been  addressed  to  him,  long 
forgotten,  but  then  seasonably  recalled  1  how  many  tears 
have  been  shed  over  him  1  how  many  jorayers  have  been 
offered  for  himl  prayers  then  heard  and  answered  in  the 
day  of  the  Lord's  power  !  Who  shall  tell  how  many  plans 
have  been  laid,  how  many  expedients  have  been  adojited, 
for  arresting,  awakening,  quickening  him  1  how  many  acts 
of  kindness  have  been  done  to  him  to  melt  his  heart  1  Who 
shall  calculate  Avhat  the  value  and  efficacy  of  these  several 
means  may  have  been  as  instruments  in  the  Spirit's  hands, 
preparatory  to  conversion  and  conducive  to  its  permanence  1 
Many  may  have  watched  over  that  one  soul ;  taken  an  interest 
in  its  welfare  ;  longed  and  prayed  and  laboured  on  its  behalf. 
And  what  reason  can  be  assigned  why  at  the  last,  the 
critical  stage,  a  slighter  touch,  it  may  be,  a  meaner  agency, 
may  have  proved  decisively  effectual  where  other  influences 


SOWERS  AND  REAPERS.  15 

and  appliances  had  seemed  to  fail  1  Oh  !  surely,  when  Paul 
plants  and  Apollos  waters,  and  neither  Paul  nor  Apollos 
but  another  gathers  in  the  ripe  grain,  it  can  no  longer  be 
questioned  that  it  is  indeed  God  who  gives  the  increase ;  so 
that  one  sowing,  another  watering,  and  a  third  reaping,  God 
alone  giving  the  increase,  he  alone  is  to  be  glorified  ! 

Such  then  is  the  reasonableness  of  the  arrangement,  or 
the  law  and  principle,  in  terms  of  which  one  soweth,  and 
another  reapeth  ;  such  its  suitableness  to  the  constitution  of 
human  nature  and  the  divine  economy  of  grace. 

11.  In  regard  to  the  practical  import  of  the  saying,  one 
soweth,  and  another  reapeth,  it  reminds  us  of  the  condition 
of  the  work  in  which  we  are  called  to  engage,  and  of  the 
place  which  properly  belongs  to  us  as  subordinate  agents, 
carrying  on  and  advancing  through  successive  stages  what  is 
not  our  work  but  the  work  of  God.  It  is  therefore,  on  the 
one  hand,  an  argument  of  humility,  calling  us  to  remember 
how  small,  how  very  small,  a  portion  of  what  is  to  be  done 
is  under  our  charge,  and  how  merely  subsidiary  our  charge  of 
that  small  part,  with  all  its  responsibilities,  is  and  must  be. 
And  it  is,  on  the  other  hand,  an  argument  of  love,  of  brotherly 
love,  inasmuch  as  it  reminds  us  of  our  dependence  on  our 
fellow- workers,  and  their  dependence  upon  us,  we  entering 
into  their  labours,  and  they  into  ours,  and  so  establishes  a 
bond  of  union  most  practical  and  trustworthy.  But  more 
particularly,  the  maxim  considers  us,  first,  as  sowing  what 
others  are  to  reap ;  and  secondly,  as  reaping  what  others 
have  sown.     These  two  heads  of  application  are  all-important. 

1.  We  are  sowing  what  others  are  to  reap.  And  here,  let 
it  be  remembered  that  the  proverb  holds  true  universally ; 
the  law  is  general,  applicable  to  all  sorts  of  work.  Whatever 
it  may  be  that  we  sow,  there  is  great  likelihood  of  others 
reaping.     And  let  us  be  very  sure  that  every  one  of  us  is 


16  SOWERS  AND   REAPERS. 

sowing  seed  of  some  kind  or  other.  What  are  you  sowing  1 
Are  you  sowing  to  the  flesh?  And  have  you  no  fear  that 
God's  word  may  be  fulfilled  as  to  you,  and  that  you  may 
of  the  flesh  reap  corrui^tion  ?  (Gal.  vi.  8).  Or  if,  by  his 
gracious  interposition,  you  are  saved,  have  you  no  fear  that 
from  your  sowing,  corruption  may  be  readied  by  others  1 
Alas, !  how  easily  in  this  way  may  you  become  partakers  of 
other  men's  sins  !  how  often,  in  mere  thoughtlessness,  may 
you  open  a  chink  and  crevice  in  the  flood-gate  of  corruption, 
small  indeed,  but  yet  sufficient  to  let  o^ut  a  stream  that  will 
soon  be  large  enough  !  Vice  and  folly  need  but  a  beginning, 
and  if  you  set  Satan's  machinery  agoing  in  a  frolic,  there  are 
j)lenty  of  his  servants  ready  to  keep  it  going  in  right  earnest. 
Alas  !  how  many  idle  and  hasty  words  are  every  day  uttered, 
how  many  wayward  passions  indulged,  how  many  worldly 
practices  tolerated,  how  many  little  liberties  taken  and  trifling 
inconsistences  allowed,  all  without  considering  the  danger- 
ous precedent  others  may  draw  from  them  and  the  evil  use 
they  may  make  of  them.  You  intend  no  harm.  You  do  no 
great  hurt  yourselves.  But  if  you  give  the  hint  which  others 
are  prompt  enough  to  take;  if  you  point  the  way  Avhere  they 
are  ready  enough  to  run  ;  if  they  improve  upon  your  sugges- 
tion and  better  your  example  ;  as  full  many  there  are  on  the 
watch  and  alert  to  do  ;  if  you  sow,  however  sparingly,  what 
they  reap  more  liberally ;  oh  !  in  such  a  case,  what  reason 
can  you  show  why  you  should  not  share  their  responsibility, 
why  you  should  not  be  involved  in  their  blame  1 

Beware  then  what  you  sow.  Look  well  to  it  that  it  be  all 
good,  and  of  a  good  tendency.  And  if  so,  take  courage  from 
this  assurance,  that  its  influence  will  spread  and  diffuse  itself, 
and  what  you  sow  another  will  be  ready  to  reap.  This  might 
seem  poor  encouragement  if  the  work  were  your  own.  In 
that  case  it  would  be  felt  to  bo  a  hardship  that  you  should 
sow,  and  another  reap,  that  you  should  labour,  and  another 


SOWKRS  AND  REAPERS.  17 

enter  into  your  labour.     And  accordingly,  in  reference  to  a 
man's  labour  for  his  own  accommodation,  this  is  often  in 
Scripture  denounced  as  a  heavy  judgment.     Eut  the  work  in 
which  you  are  engaged,  the  gospel  work  and  labour  of  love, 
is  not  your  own,    but  another's,  even  God's.      And  instead 
of  being  offended  because  it  may  be  often  taken  out  of  your 
hands  to  be  carried  on  and  completed  by  others,  you  rejoice 
in  the  sure  prospect  which  this  very  arrangement  affords  of 
its  being  in  the  end  successful.    For  the  proverb  is  a  promise, 
and  is  to  be  pleaded  as  such.    The  law  here  stated  is  the  law 
of  God's  procedure  which  he  is  pledged  to  fulfil.     The  work 
is  his  own  ;  therefore  he  will  raise  up  workmen.     The  seed 
is  his  own,  therefore  he  Avill  raise  up  reapers.     He  will  not 
suffer  it  to  rot  and  perish. 

Be  this  your  encouragement,  ye  Christian  parents,  who 
have  sown  good  seed   in  the  hearts  of  your  children,  and 
laboured  to  begin  a  good  work  there.     Are  you  tempted  to 
repine  because  it  is  not  your  privilege  yourselves  also  to  reap 
the  fruit,  and  see  the  work  prospering  in  your  hands  ?    Yet 
be  strong  in  faith  and  patience.     The  work,  if  it  be  the  woi'k 
of  the  Lord, — and  who  shall  doubt  that  it  is '( — will  prospei, 
if  not  in  your  hands,  in  the  hands  of  some  other  servant  of 
the  Lord.     And  is  not  that  assurance  enough  for  you  ?     Be 
you  faithful  in  doing  your  part ;  and  be  very  sure  that  God 
will  raise  up  others  of  congenial  mind  to  enter  into  your 
labours  and  do  their  parts.     And  God  himself,  in  his  own 
good  time,  will  do  his  own  part ;  for  he  does  not  always  see 
it  to  be  meet  to  put  all  the  responsibility  and  all  the  lionour 
upon  one  agent.     One  soweth,  and  another  reapeth.     You 
have  laboured  ;  others  may  enter  into  your  labour,  and  carry 
on  your  work.     And  in  some  aftertime,  in  a  time  of  the  out- 
I)ouring  of  the  Spirit,  a  time  of  refreshing  and  of  revival, 
your  labour,  now  as  you  are  apt  to  fear  in  vain,  may  begin  to 
appear.    The  lessons  you  have  taught  may  be  tenderly  remem- 

c 


18  SOWERS  AND   REAPERS. 

bered  ;  your  warnings,  your  entreaties,  your  earnest  suppflica- 
tions,  may  all  be  gratefully  acknowledged. 

Oh  !  what  consolation  may  this  view  impart  to  the  saint 
and  servant  of  God  called  away  in  the  early  stage  of  his 
labour,  with  but  little  of  a  visible  result  to  cheer  and  comfort 
him  ?  He  has  but  sown  some  seed  ;  he  has  but  entered  on 
his  field  and  superficially  surveyed  its  extent ;  he  has  but  put 
in  order  his  machinery.  Many  a  favourite  scheme  he  is  com- 
pelled to  leave  unmatured, — many  a  fair  blossom,  still  how 
tender  and  precarious  !  "  Oh  !  "  he  may  be  tempted  to  wish, 
or  we  on  his  behalf,  "  oh  I  that  I  might  be  permitted  to  abide 
by  my  post  a  little  longer  ;  to  remain  another  year  ;  to  com- 
plete some  experiment  I  have  just  begun ;  to  await  the  issue 
of  some  effort  I  have  been  hopefully  making  ! "  Yes  !  but 
if  God  has  work  for  thee  elsewhere,  or  blessed  rest,  why 
shouldst  thou  desire  to  continue  here  1  Is  thy  presence  neces- 
sary for  the  work  on  which  thy  heart  is  set  here  1  Nay,  out 
of  the  very  stones  God  can  raise  up  servants  to  prosecute  his 
"vvork.  He  can  cause  the  good  seed  to  grow,  the  good  work  to 
prosper,  without  thy  agency.  His  having  thus  far  employed 
thee  is  matter  of  pure  kindness  and  great  condescension ; 
and  why  shouldst  thou  grudge  that  others  should  be  employed 
too  ?  If  there  is  any  joy  in  the  success  of  the  labour,  why 
not  allow  others  to  partake  of  it  1  Fear  not  that  thou  mayest 
thyself  be  defrauded.  "  He  that  reapeth  receiveth  Avages, 
and  gathereth  fruit  unto  life  eternal ;" — not,  however,  to  the 
exclusion  of  him  that  soweth,  but  that  both  may  re- 
joice together ;  he  that  soweth  and  he  that  reapeth  equally 
and  alike. 

2.  The  maxim  is  addressed  to  us  as  reaping  what  others 
have  sowed  ;  and  in  that  view,  it  is  an  argument  for  instant 
and  cheerful  diligence.  You  are  not  doomed  alwaj's  to 
labour  for  others ;  others  have  laboured  for  you.  You 
take  up  the  work  which  they  have  begun,  and  gather   the 


SOWERS  AND   REAPERS.  19 

fruits  of  their  toil.  Let  none,  then,  say  in  indolence, 
It  is  time  enough  yet ;  there  are  yet  four  months  till  the 
harvest ;  lift  up  your  eyes  and  see  fields  ripe  already  to 
harvest !  The  servants  of  God  are  never  sent  to  fields 
quite  unsown  ;  there  has  always  been  some  forerunner  pre- 
paring the  way  ;  there  is  a  people  made  ready.  So  it  was  in 
the  case  of  these  Samaritans  of  whom  our  Lord  spoke. 
Unpromising  as  their  situation  was ;  ignorant,  superstitious,  and 
idolatrous  as  the  Jews  deemed  them  ;  —  there  were  still 
some  remnants  of  good  doctrine  preserved  among  them  in 
the  books  of  Moses,  which,  disposed  many  to  welcome  the 
Messiah  of  whom  Moses  bore  testimony.  So  it  has  always 
been.  The  prophets  entered  into  the  labour  of  the  patriarchs  ; 
John  the  Baptist  into  the  labour  of  the  prophets  ;  Jesus  him- 
self into  the  labour  of  John  ;  the  apostles  and  succeeding 
teachers  into  the  labour  of  Jesus.  In  the  very  worst  circum- 
stances still  there  are  fields  holding  out  the  prospect  of  a 
ready  harvest.  Even  in  the  depths  of  heathen  ignorance  and 
darkness,  God  has  never  left  himself  without  a  witness ; 
the  primitive,  traditional  revelation  is  not  quite  obliterated ; 
there  is  still  some  gleam  of  light  that  may  fit  the  eye  for 
bearing  more,  some  element  of  good  that  may  be  seized  and 
turned  to  account.  The  veriest  wretch  that  lives,  ignorant, 
degraded,  hardened,  of  callous  heart  and  conscience  seared, 
sunk  in  profligacy  and  crime,  has  still,  in  some  nook  or  cranny 
of  his  soul  a  chord  that  you  may  skilfully  touch  ;  a  recollection 
of  tenderness  that  you  may  awaken ;  some  long  dormant 
sympathy  that  you  may  arouse  ;  some  thought  of  better  and 
happier  days  that  may  yet  be  made  to  sting  him  to  the  quick  ; 
some  sacred  impressions  wellnigh  effaced,  that  may  yet  be 
deepened  and  renewed. 

For  us  indeed,  in  these  lands  and  in  these  days — may  we 
not  be  called  to  lift  up  our  eyes  and  see  fields  white  already 
to  harvest  ?     The  good  and  holy  men  who  have  gone  before 


20  SOWERS  AND  EEAPERS. 

US  in  the  cliurch,  —  have  they  not  prepared  a  rich  harvest 
for  us  1  Then  let  us  put  in  the  sickle.  Let  us  take  up  the 
work  where  they  left  it.  Let  us  enter  into  their  labour  and 
fulfil  their  joy  !  True,  many  seeds  of  corruption,  many  ele- 
ments of  evil  have  been  sown  through  neglect  or  sin  in  former 
generations ;  and  in  the  church's  weakened  energy  and  crippled 
resources  we  are  now  reaping  their  sad  fruits.  Yes  ;  but  the 
venerable  Christian  patriarchs  of  our  land  are  not  so  long 
gone ;  the  godly  of  kindred  spirit  have  not  so  utterly  failed ;  but 
that  still  the  church  may  find  many  precious  seeds  of  their 
sowing  to  mature,  many  fruits  of  their  prayers  to  reap  and 
gather.  Then  manfully  let  us  enter  into  their  labour,  catch 
the  spirit  of  their  devoted  zeal,  and  forward  the  interests  of 
the  cause  so  endeared  to  the  best  aifections  of  their  hearts,  so 
indebted  to  the  faithful  labour  of  their  hands. 

To  this  we  are  called  by  the  reverence  and  respect  we 
have  for  them.  Do  we  not  see  them,  as  it  were,  bending  upon 
us  the  eye  of  intense  expectancy, — waiting  till  we  take  up  the 
weapons  which  they  have  dropped,  and  resume  the  fight  which 
they  sustained  to  the  last  1  Do  we  not  hear  their  voice  of  im- 
ploring earnestness, — "  Let  not  all  our  tears  and  prayers  be 
lost,  and  all  our  efforts  frustrated  !  Let  not  the  trumpet  with 
which  we  proclaimed  the  jubilee  of  a  world'?  salvation,  now 
from  feeble  or  unfaithful  lips  give  forth  an  uncertain  sound  ! 
Let  not  sinners  whom  Ave  warned  return  again  to  folly  for 
want  of  seasonable  reproof ;  or  the  penitent  whom  we  com- 
forted be  again  discouraged  for  want  of  a  preached  Saviour ; 
or  the  hungry  soul  be  stinted  of  the  rich  supply  which  we 
were  wont  to  give  out  of  the  fulness  that  is  in  Christ !  " 

Again  we  are  called  by  the  sure  prospect  of  success.  We 
in  this  generation  receive  as  our  portion  the  wisdom  and 
the  energy  of  the  men  of  other  days.  "\Ve  have  their  experi- 
ence to  teach  us  ;  their  plans  to  guide  us  ;  the  still  remaining 
results  of  their  Christian  faithfulness  as  materials  to  work 


SOWERS  AND  REAPEKS.  21 

Avith.  We  start  as  from  an  advanced  post.  "W^'e  begin  with  no 
despicable  stock  of  Christian  resources  on  hand,  bequeathed 
to  us  b}''  them.  Thej''  have  done  much  to  facilitate  what  we 
have  yet  to  do  ;  removed  many  obstacles  ;  and  gained  a  foot- 
ing on  which  we  may  securely  stand  in  our  attempts  to  move 
the  people.  Let  us  press  eagerly  on  in  the  way  they  have  left 
comparatively  clear  for  us. 

Lastly,  we  are  called  by  the  hope  of  rejoicing  along 
with  them  in  the  results  of  our  joint  labour ;  one  sowing, 
and  another  reaping ;  and  both  rejoicing  together !  AVhat 
a  spirit-stirring  thought  is  this !  What  an  animating 
prospect !  To  share  in  the  holy  joy  of  saintly  men ! 
their  joy  in  those  successful  undertakings  which  they  be- 
gan, and  it  is  our  privilege  to  complete  !  To  be  partners 
of  their  labour  now ;  to  be  partners  of  their  triumph  here- 
after !  To  meet  them  in  the  realms  above,  and  take  sweet 
counsel  Avith  them  on  what  we  have  together  done  for  the 
glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  souls  !  To  compare  notes  of 
our  several  services  in  the  same  vineyard  of  our  common 
Lord  !  What  heart  can  conceive,  what  tongue  express,  the 
untiring  rapture  of  such  sympathy  and  fellowship  with  the 
noble  spirits  we  have  long  reverenced  and  loved  1  What  a 
theme  of  never-ending  delight,  what  a  topic  of  unceasing  in- 
terest, to  have  in  common  !  And  oh  !  will  not  eternity  be 
all  too  short  to  trace  the  history  of  our  joint  labour  ;  to  adore 
in  instances  ever  fresh  in  the  recital  the  love  and  wisdom 
of  him  in  whose  cause  we  have  jointly  laboured  ;  to  point 
out  cases  where  the  seed  they  thought  lost  has  by  God's  bless- 
ing in  our  hands  become  fruitful, — souls  to  whom  they  spoke 
in  vain  many  a  word  in  season  brought  at  last,  by  our  means, 
to  remember  and  to  bless  these  very  words  !  And  in  turn  to 
find  how,  in  the  conversion  of  many  a  sinner,  and  the  edifying 
of  many  a  saint,  we  have  been  more  highly  honoured  than 
we  could  ever  have  dreamt  of ;  having  been  joined  and  asso- 


22  SOWERS  AND  EEAPERS. 

ciated  in  the  work  with  some  venerahle  father  or  dear  brother 
in  the  Lord,  into  whose  labours  we  entered,  and  whose  joy 
in  these  labours  we  fulfil  and  share. 

These,  my  friends,  are  thoughts  on  the  present  occasion, 
not  unsuitable  as  addressed  to  you  who  are  to  be  hearers,  and 
very  overpowering  as  they  affect  him  who  speaks  to  you ! 
Called  by  a  short  and  sudden  and  most  unforeseen  course  of 
advancement  to  enter  into  the  labours  of  the  great  and  good 
men  who  in  this  highly-favoured  corner  of  God's  vineyard 
have  laboured  so  nobly  and  so  faithfully, — who  would  not 
be  filled  with  emotions  of  awe,  and  well-nigh  of  terror  1 
Masters  in  Israel  both  of  them  !  The  one,  of  command- 
ing powers  all  consecrated  by  noble  zeal  in  the  cause  of 
God  and  truth  ;  the  other,  of  most  saintly,  spiritual,  and 
deep  experimental  Christianity  !  Who  but  must  feel  as  if 
he  were  touching  the  ark  with  unhallowed  hand  in  entering, 
with  the  consciousness  of  much  infirmity  and  many  de- 
ficiencies, on  a  field  which  even  such  men  found  too  arduous  1 
Much  as  there  may  be,  perhaps,  in  such  a  call  to  rouse  and 
excite  an  enthusiastic  mind  ;  alas  !  there  is  far  more  to  dis- 
courage and  depress  !  And  much  of  your  kindly  indulgence, 
and  much  of  your  sympathy  and  friendly  aid,  and  full  many, 
—  oh  !  let  there  be  many, —  of  your  prayers,  earnest  and 
affectionate,  will  he  need  who  now  desires  to  preach  to 
you,  not  himself,  but  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord ;  and  himself 
your  servant  for  Jesus'  sake  !  For  his  own  part,  he  can  but 
plead  an  honest  and  hearty  desire  to  enter,  with  God's  help 
and  your  countenance,  into  the  labours  of  those  who  have 
gone  before  ;  to  fulfil  their  plans  and  purposes  of  usefulness 
to  the  Church,  .and  carry  on  every  good  work  by  them  auspi- 
ciously begun.  For  this  desire  alone  he  asks  you  to  give  him 
credit ;  and  the  expression  of  it  he  prays  you  to  take  in  good 
part.  And  here  your  co-operation  may  fitly  be  expected. 
To  occupy  the  place  of  such  men,  whose  personal  acquaintance 


SOWERS  AND  KEAPERS.  23 

it  was  not  his  privilege  to  enjoy  ; — ignorant  therefore  in  great 
measure  of  their  designs  and  thoughts  ;  must  be  felt  as  a 
serious  disadvantage ; — for  the  diminishing  of  which,  every 
suggestion  that  can  enable  him  to  enter  more  fully  into  their 
labours,  and  especially  into  the  spirit  of  their  labours,  cannot 
but  be  very  grateful  and  very  welcome. 

But  these,  after  all,  are  secondary  considerations.  The  work 
of  the  ministry  is  in  itself  a  work  of  awful  responsibility  ;  and 
none  of  us  is  sufficient  for  it.  Therefore,  brethren,  do  ye  pray 
for  us,  that  our  sufficiency  may  be  of  God  !  Pray  that  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord  may  be  with  us  in  all  our  private  prepara- 
tions,— in  all  our  official  duties  !  Pray  that  we  may  be  en- 
abled to  be  faithful ;  to  remember  the  commission  with  which 
we  are  charged ;  to  shun  all  compromise ;  to  declare  the  whole 
counsel  of  God  ;  to  reprove,  rebuke,  exhort,  with  all  meekness 
and  authority  ;  to  comfort  the  mourner  and  speak  a  word  in 
season  to  him  that  is  weary.  Pray  that  our  own  heart  may 
be  richly  stored  with  all  divine  wisdom  and  an  experimental 
knowledge  of  the  divine  love.  So  shall  we  be  the  better  able 
to  bring  forth  out  of  the  treasury  within  the  word  of  life ; 
speaking  from  the  heart  to  the  heart.  Pray,  above  all,  that 
the  word  which  we  preach  to  others  may  be  preached  with 
divine  power  to  ourselves  ;  that  our  professional  familiarity 
with  the  gospel  may  not  hinder  its  personal  application  ;  that, 
much  as  we  have  to  speak  of  the  things  which  belong  to 
our  peace,  we  may  feel  them  much  more  !  Pray  for  us, 
brethren,  oh  !  pray  for  us,  that  our  own  work  may  not  con- 
demn us ;  that,  after  having  preached  to  others,  avc  may  not 
ourselves  be  cast  away.     Amen. 


24  THE  MAN  CHRIST  JESUS. 


11. 

THE  MAN  CHEIST  JESUS. 

"  The  man  Christ  Jesus." — 1  Timothy  ii.  5. 

There  must  be  some  reason  for  the  emphatic  use  here  of  the 
word  "  man,"  or  the  expression  "  the  man."  It  does  not 
indeed  give  any  countenance  to  the  opinion  that  Jesus 
Christ  the  Mediator  is  a  mere  man.  On  the  contrary,  it 
suggests  a  presumption,  at  least,  if  not  a  proof,  against  that 
opinion.  The  very  isolation  of  our  Lord  as  "  the  man  ;"  the 
stress  laid  in  so  studied  and  marked  a  way  on  his  manhood ; 
is  fitted  to  convey  the  impression  of  his  being  something  else 
and  something  more  tlian  man.  And  the  real  explanation 
of  the  importance  which  Paul  manifestly  attaches  to  his 
humanity,  in  connection  with  the  subject  about  which  he  is 
writing,  unequivocally  shuts  out  the  use  which  some  cham- 
pions of  the  doctrine  of  his  mere  humanity  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  make  of  this  their  favourite  and  often  vaunted  text. 
The  explanation  is  to  be  sought  and  found  in  the  context. 
The  apostle  is  enforcing  the  duty  of  intercessory  prayer. 
Especially  he  urges  the  obligation  lying  on  believers  to  make 
their  intercessory  prayers  all-embracing,  all-comprehensive 
(ver.  1).  You  are  to  pray  for  others.  You  are  to  pray  for  all 
men,  without  distinction,  without  respect  of  persons  (ver.  2). 
You  are  to  pray  for  kings,  and  for  all  that  are  in  authority. 
These  are  singled  out  and  specified  for  a  very  obvious  cause. 
They  may  be,  they  often  are,  as  at  the  time  then  present  they 
were,  the  enemies  of  Christ ;    blasphemers   of  his    name ; 


THE   MAN  CHlilST  JESUS.  25 

persecutors  of  his  church.  On  that,  or  on  other  grounds, 
they  may  seem  to  be  beyond  the  reach  and  range  of  that 
sympathy  which  ought  to  prompt  and  inspire  intercessory 
prayer,  and  without  which  such  prayer  can  scarcely  have  any 
sincerity,  any  earnestness,  any  warmth  of  heart. 

To  meet  this  narrow  feeling  of  nature,  Paul  brings  forward 
the  large  and  wide  sweep  of  grace.  To  pray  for  all,  even  for 
those  that  are  most  hostile  or  most  alien  (ver.  3),  is  good  and 
acceptable  in  the  sight  of  God  our  Saviour.  It  may  well  be  so, 
it  must  be  so.  For  it  is  in  accordance  with  his  mind  and  will 
as  Saviour.  He  is  our  Saviour,  it  is  true  ;  but  not  ours  only 
(ver  4).  He  will  have  all  men, — his  greatest  enemies,  the  most 
outcast  prodigals,  not  excepted, — he  Avill  have  all  men  to  be 
saved,  and  to  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  If  there 
are  any  for  whom  we  cannot  pray  directly  out  of  sympathy 
with  them,  we  can  pray  for  them  out  of  sympathy  with  the 
Lord,  who  is  our  Saviour,  and  who  is  willing  also  to  be 
theirs.  We  may  have  no  particular  or  personal  interest  in 
them.  But  we  knoAv  the  interest  which  the  Lord  our  Saviour 
feels  in  them.  And  if  we  love  him  as  the  Lord  our  Saviour, 
and  enter  into  his  heart,  and  comply  with  his  desire,  we  will 
pray  for  them,  for  all  of  tliem,  with  an  intensity  proportioned 
to  the  measure  of  our  filial  likeness  in  him  to  our  Father  in 
heaven. 

All  the  rather  will  we  pray  for  them  all,  when  we  bear 
in  mind  that  they  and  we  are  all  one.  Yes  !  all  are  one, 
they  and  we  are  one ;  inasmuch  (ver.  5)  as  there  is  one  God 
for  all,  one  Mediator  for  all,  one  Saviour  for  all.  There  are 
not  many  Gods,  so  that  one  might  belong  to  one  God  and 
some  to  another.  There  are  not  many  Mediators,  many 
Captains  of  salvation,  under  whose  separate  banners  men 
might  rank  themselves  at  pleasure.  There  are  not  many 
ransoms,  with  blood  of  various  hues  to  meet  varieties  of  taste 
among  the  sprinkled  worshippers.     Tliere  is  but  one  God,  to 


26  .     THE  MAN  CHRIST  JESUS. 

whom  all  belong.  There  is  but  one  Mediator,  one  only 
name  under  heaven  given  among  men  whereby  all  must  be 
saved.  There  is  but  one  Eansom,  one  Lamb  of  God  that 
taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world. 

One  God  for  all.  One  Mediator  for  all.  One  ransom  for 
all.  And  the  ransom,  the  Mediator,  Christ  Jesus,  is  "  the 
MAN."  Not  a  man  of  a  particular  colour,  whether  fair,  or 
dark,  or  of  Ethiopian  dye.  Not  a  man  of  a  particular  race, 
Jew  or  Gentile  ;  of  Shem,  of  Japhet,  or  of  Ham.  Not  a  man 
of  a  particular  class  or  rank,  Avhether  of  royal  ancestry  or  of 
lineage  projier  to  his  birth  in  the  stable  of  an  inn.  Not  a 
man  of  a  particular  temperament,  whether  sanguine  or  morose, 
grave  or  gay.  Not  a  man  of  a  particular  history,  walking  in 
a  path  apart.  He  is  "the  man  Christ  Jesus  ;"  everywhere, 
always,  to  every  one,  the  same  ;  the  man.  Therefore  they 
who  love  him,  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  may  Avell  be  exhorted  to 
pray  for  all  men. 

"  The  man  Christ  Jesus."  The  very  absence  of  all  qualify- 
ing epithets  makes  the  designation  unique  and  solemn.  There 
is  a  majesty  about  it  which  inspires  awe.  There  is  a  grace 
in  it  which  wins  trust  and  love.  It  is  not  the  holy  man, 
the  righteous  man,  the  gracious  man.  It  is  not  the  man 
approved  of  God,  who  went  about  doing  good.  It  is  not  even 
the  man  of  sorrows.  It  is  simply  "  the  man  Christ  Jesus." 
How  much  there  is  in  this  bare  and  bald  title,  may  the  Spirit 
show  us  ! 

I.  He  is  the  man  all  through  ;  out  and  out  the  man. 
In  soul,  body,  spirit ;  in  look,  voice,  carriage,  walk  ;  in  mind, 
heart,  feeling,  affection  ;  he  is  out  and  out,  through  and 
through,  the  man.  In  him  ; — in  all  about  him,  all  he  is,  and 
all  he  does,  you  see  the  man ;  not  the  man  of  honour,  the 
man  of  piety,  the  man  of  patience,  the  man  of  patriotism, 
the  man  of  philanthropy  ;  but  the  man.     The  manhood  in 


THE  MAN  CHRIST  JESUS.  27 

Christ  Jesus  is  very  noble  ;  but  it  is  very  simple.  And 
it  is  becaiise  it  is  so  simple  that  it  is  so  noble.  None  who 
knew  him  while  he  lived  here,  let  them  have  known  him 
ever  so  well,  would  have  been  inclined,  even  if  they  had 
been  able,  to  delineate  or  draw  his  character  when  he  was 
gone.  The  better  they  knew  him,  the  less  Avould  they 
have  been  inclined  to  try,  None  have  ever  succeeded  in 
drawing  his  character  since.  For  he  is  the  man  Christ 
Jesus.  Do  you  ever  think  of  him  but  just  as  the  man? 
Other  men  you  think  of  as  distinguished  by  their  features. 
Did  you  ever  see  a  portrait  of  him  that  pleased  you  1  No  ! 
And  you  never  will.  For  he  is  the  man  Christ  Jesus.  You 
remember  other  men  by  their  peculiarities  of  manner.  But 
by  what  peculiarity  do  you  remember  the  man  Christ  Jesus  1 
You  associate  other  men  in  groups,  around  their  favourite 
centres  of  attraction,  their  idols  of  the  cave,  the  tribe,  the 
market-place.  In  which  of  all  the  groups  do  you  place  the 
man  Christ  Jesus  1 

Oh  !  it  is  a  blessed  thing  to  know  that  Jesus  Christ  is 
the  man.  The  man  for  you,  brother,  whoever  you  are  ; — and 
the  man  also,  I  thank  God,  for  me  !  The  man  for  the  strong, 
— the  man  for  the  weak  !  The  man  for  kings  ;  for  what  king 
was  ever  so  kingly  as  the  man  Christ  Jesus  1  The  man  for 
heroes  ;  for  who  so  heroic  as  the  man  Christ  Jesus  1  The 
man  for  you  Avho  toil  in  the  carpenter's  shop  ;  in  the  like 
of  which  once  he  toiled,  like  you, — the  man  Christ  Jesus  ! 
The  man  for  you  who  He  groaning  beside  that  fresh  grave  ; 
for  what  heart  so  tender  as  the  heart  of  him  who  wept  at 
Bethany, — the  man  Christ  Jesus  !  The  man  for  you  whose 
sin  is  ever  before  you  ;  for  whom  did  sin  ever  grieve  or  vex 
as  in  the  agony  of  his  bloody  sweat  it  wounded,  in  the 
garden,  the  man  Christ  Jesus  ! 

.  II.  He  is  simply   man  throughout ;   in  every  exigency, 


28  THE  MAN  CHEIST  JESUS. 

in  every  trial,  simply  man — the  man  Christ  Jesus  !  In  all 
his  earthly  and  human  experience,  you  never  find  him  other 
than  man  ;  you  never  find  him  less  than  man  ;  and  you  never 
find  him  more  than  man.  That  he  is  more  than  man,  you 
helieve  and  are  sure  ;  for  you  see  his  divine  works  of  charity 
and  power.  You  see  how  he  saves  others.  But  from  the 
manner  in  which  he  fulfils  liis  own  obligations,  meets  his  own 
temptations,  and  bears  his  own  sufferings,  you  would  never 
gather  this.  Himself  he  does  not  save  !  Other  men,  in  the 
stern  battle  of  life,  often  fall  far  below  your  standard  or  ideal 
of  genuine  manhood  ;  while  occasionally  they  tower  to  such 
a  height  of  transcendental  and  romantic  virtue  that  you  feel 
as  if  they  belonged  to  a  higher  sphere,  a  Utopian  world.  They 
are  none  of  us,  you  say,  no  kith  or  kin  of  ours.  Do  you 
ever  feel  anything  like  that  when  you  read  the  story  of  your 
Lord  t    No.     For  he  is  the  man  Christ  Jesus  ! 

He  is  the  Son  of  God,  you  know ;  the  Father's  fellow. 
But  you  never  think  of  his  being  the  Son  of  God  as  making 
his  manhood  at  all  different  from  yours.  ISTo  !  For  you  never 
find  him  taking  shelter  from  the  ills  to  which  flesh  is  heir 
in  any  power,  or  privilege,  or  prerogative  of  his  divine  nature 
and  heavenly  rank.  Nor  do  you  ever  find  him  interposing  it 
as  a  shield  against  the  world's  cold  cruelty  and  the  fiery  darts 
of  the  wicked  one.  No  !  In  his  war  with  the  great  enemy, 
as  well  as  in  the  Avhole  experience  of  his  life  and  death,  he 
is  the  man  Christ  Jesus.  And  as  to  all  that,  he  is  nothing 
more.  He  will  not  feed  himself  by  miracle ;  for  he  is  the 
man  Christ  Jesus  ;  and  lives,  as  other  men  live,  by  the  pro- 
vidence of  God,  by  bread,  or  whatever  else  God  may  appoint. 
He  wiU  not  call  down  fire  to  avenge  him  on  his  enemies  ;  for 
he  is  the  man  Christ  Jesus  ;  and  commits,  as  every  man 
should  commit,  himself  and  his  cause  to  God.  He  will  not 
summon  from  heaven  legions  of  angels  for  his  relief ;  for  he 
is  the  man  Christ  Jesus  ;  and  as  the  man  Christ  Jesus  he 


THE  MAN  CHRIST  JESUS.  29 

says — Avhat  every  man  among  you  may  receive  grace  to  say 
along  witli  him, — "  The  cup  which  my  Father  giveth  me,  shall 
I  not  drink  it  1 "  "  Father,  not  my  will,  but  thine  be  done  !  " 
Thus,  as  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  he  lies  in  his  mother's 
bosom,  and  works  at  her  husband's  trade.  As  the  man 
Christ  Jesus,  he  is  subject,  all  his  youth,  to  his  parents. 
As  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  he  is  weary,  hungry,  thirsty.  As 
the  man  Christ  Jesus,  he  is  vexed,  grieved,  pained,  pro- 
voked. As  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  his  soul  is  exceeding 
sorrowful,  and  at  times  his  anger  is  stirred.  As  the  man 
Christ  Jesus,  he  cries,  and  groans,  and  Aveeps.  As  the 
man  Christ  Jesus,  he  bleeds,  and  quivers,  and  dies.  All 
throughout,  he  never  once  evades  pain  because  he  is  the  Son 
of  God.  He  never  once  borrows  strength  to  bear  pain  from 
the  fact  or  consciousness  of  his  being  the  Son  of  God  !  He 
is  fain  to  cry  to  God,  like  other  men,  and  to  welcome,  like 
other  men,  the  help  and  comfort  of  the  Holy  Spirit  ;  yes,  and 
of  holy  angels  too.  Apart  from  prayer  to  God,  and  the  aid  of 
the  Spirit,  and  the  ministry  of  angels,  he  has  not,  any  more 
than  {he  feeblest  of  you  all,  anything  but  manhood's  feeble- 
ness, in  which  to  toil,  in  which  to  travail.  IS'othing  more. 
For  he  is  the  man  Christ  Jesus. 

This  also  is  a  blessed  thing  to  know.  In  all  the  doings  and 
sufferings  of  our  Lord,  you,  brother,  and  I,  may  see  what  our 
common  manhood,  simply  as  manhood,  may  do  and  suffer,  €or 
he  is  the  man  Christ  Jesus.  Man's  capacity  of  attainment, 
man's  power  of  endurance, — what  man  is  fit  for,  what  man 
can  stand,  with  the  help  of  God,  you  learn  from  the  human 
history  of  the  man  Christ  Jesus  !  Surely  it  is  good  t(3  con- 
sider him  who  endured  such  contradiction  of  sinners  against 
himself ;  who  resisted  unto  blood,  striving  against  sin  ;  who 
drank  the  bitter  cup  and  hung  on  the  accursed  tree  ;  and  to 
remember  always  that  in  all  that  he  was  very  man ;  a  real 
man  ;  the  man  Christ  Jesus. 


30  THE  MAN   CHKIST  JESUS. 

III.  He  is  the  man  exclusively,  pre-eminently,  ^;ar  ex- 
cellence, to  the  absolute  exclusion  of  all  others,  he  is  the  man, 
the  only  man,  complete  and  perfect.  He  stands  alone  as  man  ; 
the  man  Christ  Jesus.  Manhood,  in  its  integrity,  belongs  to 
him  alone.  ISTot  otherwise,  0  my  brother  sinner,  could  he  be 
the  man  for  you  ;  the  man  for  me.  Let  one  gather  up  in 
himseK  all  the  fragments  of  the  manhood  which  you  and  I 
share  together.  Let  him  collect  in  one  heap,  as  it  were, 
every  particle  of  glory  and  beauty  to  be  found  anywhere 
among  the  ruins  of  humanity.  Let  him  take  every  great 
man's  quality  of  greatness,  every  good  man's  element  of  good- 
ness. And  out  of  all  the  excellences  and  virtues  of  all  the 
excellent  and  virtuous  who  have  ever  graced  the  world,  and 
of  whom  the  world  was  not  worthy,  let  him  form  in  himself 
a  choice  compound ;  combining  all,  ennobling  all,  harmo- 
nising all.  And  let  him  come  forth  before  you  and  me  as  the 
man  thus  made  ! 

Would  you  and  I,  or  either  of  us,  own  him  as  the 
man  for  us  %  Ah,  no  !  As  soon  may  we  seek  to  recon- 
struct, from  the  scattered  stone  and  lime,  the  time-hallowed 
house  of  prayer  in  which  we  were  wont  to  worship 
reverently,  as  our  fathers  worshipped  in  it  before ;  as  soon 
may  we  try  to  get  the  mouldering  dust  to  take  again  the 
living  warmth  we  used  to  clasp  in  our  embrace ;  as  we  may 
hope  to  scrape  together  the  relics  of  fallen  honour  and  dignity 
still  outstanding  in  our  race,  and  make  of  them  the  man  we 
want,  the  man  we  need,  the  man  for  men,  the  man  of  men. 
Assuredly  this  manhood  of  ours  is  a  structure  very  noble, 
even  in  its  fallen  state.  ISTot  in  the  high  places  of  the  field 
merely,  and  among  the  deathless  names  of  history, — but  deep 
down  in  the  recesses  of  poverty,  ay,  and  of  abject  vice  and 
crime, — what  traces  are  there  of  chivalry  and  generous  self- 
sacrifice  ;  instances  that  might  put  the  lazy  luxury  of  sheltered 
innocence  to  shame !  But  take  the  good  you  find  in  every  one  of 


THE  MAN  CHRIST  JESUS.  31 

all  the  world's  inmates, — and  in  none  will  you  not  find  some 
good, — in  the  whole  together  you  will  find  much.  I  speak 
of  good,  not  in  the  highest  sense  of  godliness,  though  even 
that  is  not  wanting,  but  as  men  speak  of  good,  in  the  sense 
of  what  is  virtuous  and  praiseworthy.  Take  all  the  good,  of 
all  sorts,  you  can  possibly  discover  in  the  records  of  good  men 
of  all  the  ages.  Mix,  compound,  combine  as  you  may  please, 
you  cannot  get  the  man  !  For  the  man  to  meet  my  case,  and 
satisfy  the  craving  of  my  soul, — must  be  no  thing  of  shreds 
and  patches ;  but  complete,  perfect,  an  unbroken  round,  in 
himself  one  whole.  No  composite  will  do.  He  must  be  a 
single  and  simple  unity ;  one,  like  the  seamless  coat,  woven 
from  the  top  throughout. 

Eut  humanity,  manhood,  has  never  been  thus  one,  in- 
wardly and  intensely  one,  since  the  fall.  Men  there  liave 
been,  good  and  great.  But  they  have  been  fragmentary ; 
a  bit  of  manhood  in  each  ;  often  a  very  beautiful  bit  of 
manhood ;  but  set,  alas  !  and  often  well-nigh  lost,  in  a 
confused,  chaotic  jumble  of  inconsistencies  and  incohe- 
rences !  We  cannot,  brother, — neither  you  nor  I, — we  can- 
not be  contented  with  any  of  them,  even  the  best.  We 
cannot  pin  our  faith, — we  cannot  fasten  our  human  hearts 
and  hopes  upon  any  one  of  them,  or  upon  all  of  them 
together.  And  if  any  sanguine  admirer  of  humanity,  such  as 
it  is,  comes  to  tell  us ;  Here  is  one  in  Avhom  all  the  perfec- 
tions that  have  sej^arately  adorned  the  choicest  specimens  of 
human  nature  meet ;  and  in  whom  none  of  their  imperfec- 
tions can  be  traced  :  we  tax  our  memory ;  we  survey  the 
world  about  us  and  around  us  ;  we  ransack  history  ;  we  sum- 
mon the  excellent  of  the  earth  ;  we  winnow  them ;  we  take 
the  choice,  the  best  of  them.  We  do  our  utmost  to  weed 
out  all  their  evil  and  frailty  ;  we  concentrate  and  condense 
into  a  very  quintessence  of  worthiness  all  in  them  that  is 
good ;  and  Ave  say  ;  This  ideal  composite  personage  must  be 


32  THE  MAN  CHRIST  JESUS. 

the  man  whom  you  commend  to  us.  But  no  !  He  is  not  the 
man  for  us.  No  conglomerate  can  be  our  rock.  It  must  be 
primitive  and  one.  We  want,  we  must  have,  the  man  !  Kot 
the  aggregate  of  men,  but  the  man  !  ISTot  an  expurgated 
accumulation,  a  purified  heap,  of  the  ruins  of  the  temple ; 
but  the  temple  !  Not  humanity's  best  points,  without  hu- 
manity's bad  points,  worked  up  into  a  sort  of  model  of 
humanity  ;  but  humanity  in  its  original  type,  living  and  one  ! 
The  man  !  we  say,  the  man  !  And  here  is  the  man  ;  the 
man  Christ  Jesus.  All  manhood  is  his  ;  manhood  such  as 
yours  and  mine  ;  but  untainted,  incorrupt,  one  and  indivisible, 
which  yours  and  mine  is  not.  He  is  holy,  harmless,  unde- 
filed  ;  and  separate  from  sinners.  He  is  separate  from  sin- 
ners. And  he  is  so,  not  in  his  conduct  and  character  merelj'', 
but  in  his  very  birth,  in  his  very  nature,  as  man,  the  man 
Christ  Jesus  !  He  is  the  man  ;  the  one  only  perfect  man  ; 
the  perfection,  himself  alone,  of  manhood.  JSTot  a  man  made 
up  of  the  most  select  remains  of  manhood,  among  men  as 
they  have  lived  since  the  fall.  He  is  the  man,  as  God  origin- 
ally made  man  ;  perfect,  absolutely  and  indivisibly  one  and 
perfect ;  the  man  Christ  Jesus. 

He  is  indeed  thus,  in  one  view,  even  as  to  his  manhood, 
separate  from  sinners  ;  and  from  us,  as  sinners  ;  from  all  of  us 
alike.  That,  however,  is  the  very  secret  of  his  being  the  man 
for  all  of  us  alike.  This  separation  from  all  of  us  alike  makes 
him  common  to  and  for  all  of  us  alike.  It  makes  him 
one  ;  the  one  whom  each  and  all  of  us  may  embrace ;  the 
man  Christ  Jesus  ;  the  one  only  separate  man  !  For  if  he 
wore  merely  one  of  us,  fallen  as  we  are,  and  corrupt ;  if  his 
holy  qualities  and  virtues  were  merely  such  as  the  best  of 
ours  are  ;  and  if  his  immaculate  freedom  from  evil  were,  after 
all,  of  the  same  sort  as  that  which  good  men  among  us  seek, 
by  various  expedients  of  self-discipline,  painfully  and  imper- 
fectly to  realise ;  then  he  must  be,  to  some  extent,  one-sided, 


THE  MAN  CHRIST  JESUS.  33 

partial,  and  unequal ;  not  fitted  to  be  the  type  and  model,  the 
root  and  ground,  the  confidence  and  hope,  of  all  redeemed 
and  restored  humanity.  He  might  be  the  man  for  you,  and 
not  for  me.  There  might  be  features  in  him  commending 
him  to  your  sympathy,  which  did  not  take  hold  of  mine. 
The  completest  man  that  ever  lived  among  the  fallen  sons  of 
men, — the  men  of  largest  manhood,  least  limited  by  accidents 
or  frailties,  the  man  made,  in  the  most  genial  and  generous 
mould,  not  for  a  party,  but  for  mankind,  divides  after  all  the 
opinions  and  affections,  the  votes  and  suffrages  of  his  fellows. 
There  are  those  who  understand, — and  those  who  simply 
wonder.  There  are  those  who  sympathise,  and  those  who 
censure,  or  who  stare.  There  are  some  whom  he  charms  into 
closest  union  with  himself ;  but  there  are  others  who  can  only 
stand  aloof;  ready  to  admire,  perhaps,  but  not  able  to  love. 
Nay,  even  if  we  could  fancy  a  man  more  complete  still, 
more  completely  uniting  in  himself  the  excellences  of  all 
other  men,  and  more  completely  excluding  their  infirmities 
and  faults ;  we  cannot  reach  the  idea  of  one  who  would  not 
be  more  to  some  than  he  might  be  to  others  ;  who  might  be 
everything  to  you,  and  little,  if  anything  at  all,  to  me. 

No  !  If  we  would  find  one  who  is  to  be  the  jUn,  for  me,  for 
you,  for  all ;  we  must  ascend  the  stream  of  time,  and  fetch  his 
manhood  from  beyond  the  flood,  from  beyond  the  fall !  Then, 
in  the  unbroken  image  of  God,  manhood,  human  nature,  the 
very  self  of  man,  was  truly  and  indeed  one  !  Since  then 
the  manhood  among  men  has  been  manifold  and  broken  and 
fragmentary.  The  man  who  is  to  gather  up  the  fragments 
must  himself  be  whole.  The  man  who  is  to  make  us, — each 
one  of  us, — really  one,  must  himself  have  the  primeval  one- 
ness as  his  own  !  All  men  long  for,  all  men  look  for,  all  men 
are  prompt  to  welcome, — some  one  from  among  the  people 
who  is  to  be  the  head  of  all,  None  such  can  be  got  among 
those  whom  the  fall  has  tainted.     The  only  one  who  can  be 

D 


34  THE  MAN  CHRIST  JESUS. 

the  head  of  all,  because  he  can  be  the  same  to  all,  is  he  who 
takes  our  human  nature, — not  as  it  is  now,  rent  and  torn  by 
sin, — but  as  it  once  was ;  one  in  unbroken,  pure,  and  holy 
innocence,  one  in  immaculate  likeness  to  the  Holy  One  !  And 
who  is  this  but  the  man  Christ  Jesus  1 

Thus  it  appears — I.  that  Christ  Jesus  is  the  true  man ; 
really  and  thoroughly  man  ;  the  common  man  ;  II.  that  he  is 
very  man ;  simply  man  ;  as  to  his  human  nature  and  ex- 
perience, neither  more,  nor  less,  nor  other  than  man  ;  and 
III.  That  he  is  the  one  man  ;  the  only  man  in  whom  the 
manhood  is  unbroken  and  entire;  the  man  unfallen,  and 
therefore  unfragmentary. 

Three  other  observations  remain  to  be  noted,  bearing  on 
the  oifices  he  is  fitted  to  discharge,  as  the  man  Christ  Jesus. 

IV.  He  is  the  man  to  mediate  between  God  and  man.  To 
be  the  one  mediator,  he  must  be  pre-eminently  and  distinc- 
tively the  man  ;  the  representative  man  ;  the  one  man.  The 
man,  not  only  as  being  the  one  alone  among  his  human  fel- 
lows competent  to  be  their  head,  gathering  up  in  himself  their 
common  nature  entire  and  pure  ;  but  as  being  the  one  alone 
of  all  men  whom  God  owns  as  his  fellow,  sharing  in  common 
with  him  the  divine  nature,  undivided,  unalloyed,  unchanged. 
If  mediation  is  a  reality  ;  if  it  is  a  real  transaction  outside  of 
us ;  not  an  internal  process,  but  the  adjustment  of  an  external 
relation,  as  all  Scripture  teaches  us  that  it  is ;  the  mediator 
must  be  a  third  party,  distinct  from  both  the  parties  between 
whom  he  mediates.  He  may  and  must  represent  both.  But 
he  is  to  be  confounded  with  neither ;  he  is  to  be  merged  in 
neither. 

A  man  cannot  have  a  mediator  within  himself ;  nor  can 
he  excogitate  or  mentally  create  a  mediator  out  of  himself. 
He  cannot  be  his  own  mediator.  Every  man  is  not  a  mediator  ; 
nor  is  it  any  man  indiscriminately  who  can  be  a  mediator.    Nor 


THE  MAX  CHRIST  JESUS.  35 

will  an  ideal  man,  springing,  as  it  were,  fully  grown,  from  the 
thoughtful  head  or  fond  heart,  the  living  ideal  outcome  and 
expression  of  those  human  instincts  that  are  opposed  to  evil, 
and  yearn  for  good,  suffice.  'No.  !N"ot  though  we  give  it  a 
local  habitation  and  a  name  ;  and  call  it  the  man  Christ  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  !  If  there  is  to  be  real  and  actual  mediation 
in  the  fair  and  honest  sense  of  the  term,  the  man  who  is  to 
be  mediator  must  be  found  for  me  ;  not  found  by  me ;  least 
of  all  found  by  me  in  myself  He  must  not  be  a  man  elected, 
as  it  were,  or  discovered  by  me,  or  you,  or  us,  or  all  men,  as 
fitted  to  be  the  common  impersonation  of  Avhat  is  good  and 
true  in  me,  in  you,  in  us,  in  all  men.  He  must  be  born,  not 
from  among  us,  but  from  above.  He  must  be  the  man ;  not 
by  assent  or  consent  on  the  part  of  earth  merely  ;  but  by  the 
decree  of  heaven ;  or  rather  by  the  creative  act  of  heaven's 
Lord,  doing  a  new  thing  on  the  earth,  bringing  in  anew 
the  man,  the  second  Adam  !  For  he  must  not  only  bo  in 
the  highest  and  fullest  sense  one  with  God,  the  ruling  party 
in  the  mediation.  He  must  so  receive  his  manhood  into 
union  with  his  Godhead  as  to  be  placed  in  the  position  of 
oneness  in  nature,  not  with  the  multitude  of  ordinary  fallen 
men,  but  Avith  the  one  original  man,  the  first  Adam,  before 
he  sinned. 

Thus  three  conditions  come  together  and  coalesce  as 
identifying  the  man  who  is  to  be  the  mediator.  First,  he 
must  be  the  man,  not  as  manhood  exists  and  appears,  marred 
and  broken,  among  the  children  of  the  fall,  but  as  it  was  in 
its  original  oneness  and  perfection,  when  man  really  bore  the 
image  of  his  !Maker.  Sccondlij,  he  must  be  the  man,  not  as 
suggested  by  men's  own  instincts  and  impulses  and  cravings, 
but  as  directly  chosen,  appointed,  introduced  by  God  himself. 
And,  thirdly,  he  must  be  the  man,  as  being,  in  his  wondrous 
person,  one  with  God  in  the  same  true  and  real  sense  in  which 
he  is  one  with  men. 


36  THE  MAN  CHRIST  JESUS. 

All  tliese  three  conditions  meet  in  the  man  Christ  Jesus. 
And  they  meet  in  him  as  the  man  who  sounded  the  utmost 
depths  of  human  experience,  and  in  the  strength  of  his  pure 
and  simple  manhood,  aided  only  by  prayer  and  by  the  Spirit, 
withstood  evil,  mastered  pain,  and  by  suffering  overcame 
the  wicked  one.  Truly  there  is  and  can  be  but  one 
mediator  between  God  and  men,  the  man  Christ  Jesus. 
The  man  (1)  made,  as  to  his  human  nature,  by  special 
miracle,  in  the  unbroken  image  and  likeness  of  God.  The 
man  (2)  who  comes  forth  from  God,  bearing  his  commis- 
sion to  negotiate  peace.  The  man  (3)  who  in  respect  of  his 
divine  nature,  unchanged,  unchangeable,  is  one  with  God, — 
the  Son  dwelling  evermore  in  the  Father's  bosom.  The  man, 
moreover,  who  still,  in  his  connection  and  in  all  his  fellowship 
of  life  and  love  with  you,  here  and  now,  is  very  man  and 
always  man  ;  the  man  thoroughly,  the  man  throughout ;  one 
of  you,  one  with  you ;  knowing  your  temptations,  himself 
tempted  like  as  you  are  ;  touched  with  the  feeling  of  your  in- 
firmities. Is  it  not  he  who  is  to  heal  the  miserable  breach, 
end  the  long  alienation,  clear  up  for  ever  the  sad  misunder- 
standing, and  bring  the  Creator  and  his  guilty  creature,  the 
Father  and  his  lost  child,  together  again  in  love  1  Is  it  not 
he,  the  man  Christ  Jesus  1 

Y.  He  is  the  man  to  give  himself  a  ransom  for  all.  He 
who  would  do  this, — he  who  would  really  deliver  you  by  be- 
coming himself  your  ransom, — must  be  one  who  is  willing  to 
take  your  place,  and  be  your  substitute  ;  and  fulfil  all  your 
obligations,  and  meet  all  your  responsibilities.  But  more  than 
that,  he  must  be  himself  free,  under  no  obligations,  under  no 
responsibilities  of  his  own.  He  must  be  one  who  owes 
nothing  to  God  on  his  own  account ;  no  service,  or  righteous- 
ness, or  obedience  ;  and  one  also  who  lies  under  no  penalty 
on  his  own  account ;  against  whom  no  charge  can  be  brought. 


THE  MAN  CHRIST  JESUS.  37 

In  whom  are  these  qualifications  found  combined  but  in 
the  man  Christ  Jesus  1  For  his  willingness,  who  can  doubt 
it  1  "  Lo,  I  come,"  he  says  (Ps.  xl.  7).  Nor  does  he  say 
this  in  ignorance  of  what  he  is  undertaking ;  as  one  of  the 
nnfallen  hosts  of  heaven,  blindly  pitying  men  in  their  lost 
and  ruined  state,  might  be  supposed  to  have  said  it.  He 
sees  the  end  from  the  beginning :  and  it  is  iu,  the  full  view 
of  all  the  toil  and  travail  it  is  to  cost  him  that  he  offers 
himself;  "  Lo,  I  come."  Nor  does  he  pause,  or  repent,  or 
draw  back,  when  he  knows,  by  actual  experience,  in  his 
human  nature,  the  weight  of  the  burden  he  has  to  bear  and 
the  bitterness  of  the  bloody  baptism  he  has  to  undergo  ; 
when,  in  the  days  of  his  flesh,  he  makes  supplication,  with 
strong  crying  and  tears  ;  j^raying  in  an  agony,  "  Let  the  cup 
pass."  It  is  still,  "  Lo,  I  come."  "  I  delight  to  do  thy  will." 
"Thy  will  be  done."  Such  is  the  willingness  of  the  man 
Christ  Jesus  to  give  himself  a  ransom ;  a  willingness  to  be 
accounted  for  on  no  other  principle  than  the  union  and  com- 
bination in  him  of  divine  and  human  love  ;  divine  love, 
deep  as  the  heart  of  his  Father  and  our  Father  ;  human  love, 
tender  and  true  as  the  heart  of  a  very  brother.  To  love  us 
with  the  holiest  love  of  lieaven, — to  love  us  with  the  purest 
love  of  earth, — is  the  exclusive  property  of  the  man  Christ 
Jesus.     In  that  willing  love  he  says,  "  Lo,  I  come." 

Eut  willingness  alone  will  not  suffice.  He  who  is  to  be 
your  surety,  your  substitute,  your  ransom,  must  be  no  common 
man.  If  he  is  one  who,  as  a  mere  creature,  is  made  under 
the  law,  as  all  intelligent  creatures  are  made  under  the 
law,  he  cannot  answer  for  others  ;  he  can  but  answer  for 
himself.  Not  even  if  he  were  the  highest  of  the  angelic 
host  could  he  do  more.  All  that  he  has,  or  can  have,  of 
attainment  or  accomplishment  is  no  more  than  he  is  bound 
himself  to  render  to  God.  Even  if  his  submission  to  the 
wiU  of  God  be  of  the  most  perfect  character,  and  carried  to 


38  THE  MAN  CHRIST  JESUS. 

the  utmost  extreme  of  obedience  and  endurance  of  which  he 
is  capable,  or  to  which  he  may  be  called,  he  must  still  say, 
"  I  am  an  unprofitable  servant ;  I  have  done  that  which  it 
was  my  duty  to  do."  If  there  is  to  be  an  adequate  ransom, 
therefore^  he  who  is  to  give  himself  for  that  end  must  be  one 
who,  in  his  own  proper  person,  is  no  mere  creature  made 
under  the  law ;  but  uncreated,  unmade,  the  Son  of  God, 
under  no  obligation  on  his  own  account,  and  free  accordingly 
to  undertake  all  obligation  on  yours.  Nor  is  it  less  necessary 
that  he  should  be  exempted,  in  the  human  nature  which  he 
assumes,  from  all  the  liabilities  of  those  for  whom,  in  that 
nature,  he  is  to  be  a  ransom.  He  must  be  one  in  whose 
manhood  there  is  no  stain,  and  upon  whom  there  lies  no 
brand  or  burden  of  guilt.  Only  such  a  one  can  voluntarily 
take  upon  him  your  responsibility,  put  himself  in  your 
place,  and  bear  away  from  you  the  blame  and  punishment 
by  bearing  it  himself  for  you. 

If  the  case  stands  thus,  there  is  little  wonder  that  when 
the  question  of  your  redemption  is  raised,  as  it  were,  in  hea- 
ven, there  should  be  blank  silence  and  suspense  on  all  sides, 
until  a  loud,  clear  voice,  issuing  from  the  throne,  breaks  the 
solemn  stillness — "  Deliver  from  going  down  to  the  pit,  I 
have  found  a  ransom."  And  hark  !  the  echoing  response  ! 
"  Even  so.  Father."  Here  am  I.  "  Sacrifice  and  offering 
thou  wouldest  not."  These  oblations  cannot  satisfy  justice, 
or  expiate  guilt.  "  The  blood  of  bulls  and  of  goats  cannot 
take  away  sin."  But  "  a  body  hast  thou  prepared  me."  "  Lo  ! 
I  come,  to  do  thy  will,  to  take  away  sin  by  the  sacrifice  of 
myself ;  I  who  am  thy  beloved  Son  ;  I,  tlie  man  Christ  Jesus." 

Blessed  surely  are  you  who  for  yourselves  acquiesce  in  this 
wondrous  substitution  ;  adoring  its  righteousness  and  its  rich 
grace  !  Blessed  are  you  who  welcome  in  loving  faith  him  to 
whom  the  Father  points  as  the  man  of  his  right  hand,  the 
son  of  man,  whom  he  maketh  strong  for  himself ;  the  man 


THE  MAN  CHRIST  JESUS.  39 

Christ  Jesus.  And  what  blessedness  to  have  to  go  now  to 
all  men,  as  you  pray  for  all  men,  without  exception,  without 
reserve,  and  to  say  to  every  man,  whatever  his  colour,  his 
caste,  his  condition,  above  all,  whatever  his  guilt  and  sin  ; 
— "  Brother,  thou  needest  a  ransom,  an  infinite  ransom,  a 
perfect  ransom,  a  ransom  sufficient  for  the  cancelling  of  all 
thy  guilt  and  the  perfecting  of  thy  peace  with  God.  No  such 
ransom  canst  thou  find  in  thyself,  in  me,  in  any  angel. 
But,  0  my  brother,  God  has  found  it.  Brother,  behold  the 
man  !  the  man  Christ  Jesus." 

VI.  He  is  the  man  to  be  testified  in  due  time.  A  testi- 
mony for  fitting  seasons  ;  a  great  truth,  to  be  attested  as  a 
fact  at  the  right  crisis  of  the  world's  history,  to  be  ever 
afterwards  preached  and  taught  as  the  source  of  life  to  men 
doomed  to  die, — is  this  marvellous  constitution  of  the  man- 
hood of  Christ  Jesus  ;  fitting  him  for  being  the  one  Mediator, 
the  one  Eansom.  It  is  the  testimony  for  which  I  am 
ordained  a  preacher  ;  an  ambassador  for  Christ.  It  is  the 
testimony  for  which  I  am  sent  among  you  with  a  message,  a 
proclamation,  in  due  time,  at  all  fitting  seasons.  It  is  a 
testimony  to  all  of  you,  I  lift  it  up  as  a  testimony  to  all  of 
you,  this  day  ;  a  timely,  seasonable  testimony,  here  and  now. 
For  now  is  the  due  time  ;  now  is  the  fitting  season. 

1.  It  is  my  ordained  and  appointed  testimon}'-,  or  rather 
the  Lord's  by  me,  to  thee,  0  sleeper  ; — to  thee,  0  doubter  ; — 
to  thee,  whosoever  thou  art,  who  art  living  a  godless,  unholy 
life  ;  unrenewed,  unreconciled,  unsanctified.  It  is  a  testi- 
mony in  due  time  to  thee  !  Due  time  indeed  !  Ah  !  it  was 
due  time  for  you  when  this  man  Christ  Jesus,  Mediator, 
Eansom,  was  testified  to  you,  days,  years,  half  a  century 
perhaps,  long  ago  ;  when  in  childhood  you  almost  felt  as  if 
you,  like  the  little  ones  in  Galilee,  were  clasped  in  the  warm 
embrace  of  the  man  Christ  Jesus  ;  when  in  sorrow,  once  and 


40  THE  MAN  CHRIST  JESUS. 

again,  you  seemed  to  see  the  hot  tears  of  sympathy  rolling 
down  the  cheeks  of  the  man  Christ  Jesus  ;  when  in  deep 
conviction  of  conscience  and  poignant  distress  of  soul,  you 
Avere  fain  to  listen  for  a  while  to  accents  of  mercy  trembling 
on  the  lips  of  the  man  Christ  Jesus  ;  when,  in  an  hour  of 
spiritual  awakening,  you  were  arrested  on  your  way  to  sin  by 
the  calm  look  and  word  of  him  who  said  so  seasonably  and 
so  lovingly  to  Saul — "Why  persecutest  thou  me  1"  the  man 
Christ  Jesus.  It  was  due  time  for  you  then.  It  was  due 
time  for  you  but  yesterday,  when  Paul's  preaching  made  you 
tremble,  and  you  were  almost  persuaded  to  be  Christ's.  Oh  ! 
that  thou  hadst  known  then,  in  due  time,  the  things  that 
belong  to  thy  peace  !  But,  blessed  be  God,  brother,  it  is 
due  time  for  thee  still.  These  things  are  not  yet  hid 
from  thine  eyes.  To  thee,  this  day,  is  again  testified, 
presented  before  thee  in  word  and  symbol,  for  thy  believing, 
loving  acceptance,  the  man  Christ  Jesus.  He  is  my  testi- 
mony, or  rather,  I  repeat,  the  Lord's  by  me,  the  Lord's,  I 
say,  the  Spirit's  testimony  ;  for  is  not  the  Lord,  the  Spirit, 
striving  with  thee?  Is  not  he  witnessing  in  thee? — in  due 
time  1  Yes;  in  due  time.  For,  0  my  brother,  it  may  be  the 
last  time  !  the  last  time  thou  art  to  hear  any  testimony  at  all 
about  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  or  the  last  time  thou  art  to  hear 
without  being  hardened. 

2.  It  is  the  testimony  with  which  I  am  charged  to  thee 
also,  0  downcast  soul,  who  art  afflicted,  tossed  with  tempest 
and  not  comforted,  sin-laden,  sorrow-laden,  unable  to  see  thy 
warrant  for  having  peace  and  life  with  thy  God.  I  testify  to 
thee,  the  Lord  testifies  by  me  to  thee,  that  all  thou  needest  is 
in  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  the  Mediator,  the  Eansom  ;  and  in 
him  for  thee.  All  that  is  Christ's  is  thine,  freely,  unre- 
servedly thine.  When  ?  thou  criest.  Oh  !  tell  me  when  1 
In  due  time,  I  reply.  But  what  time  is  that  ?  How  long 
have  I  to  wait  in  darkness  for  light,  in  sickness  for  health, 


THE  MAN  CHRIST  JESUS.  41 

in  weakness  for  strength,  in  bondage  for  freedom,  in  straits 
for  enlargement,  in  death  for  life  1  How  long  have  I  to  wait  1 
Wait,  brother  !  But  art  thou  willing  to  wait  1  Art  thou 
Avaiting  1  Then,  brother,  hear  the  testimony.  The  time  for 
favour,  the  set  time,  is  come.  "  I  have  heard  thee  in  a  time 
accepted,  and  in  a  day  of  salvation  have  I  succoured  thee. 
Behold,  now  is  the  accepted  time,  now  is  the  day  of  salvation." 

3.  It  is  a  timely,  seasonable  testimony  to  thee  also,  0  man 
of  God,  my  son  Timothy,  0  child  of  God,  who  hast  quiet  peace 
in  believing,  and  art  walking  at  liberty,  having  respect  to  all 
God's  commandments.  The  testimony  to  thee  this  day  is  of  the 
man  Christ  Jesus,  the  Mediator,  the  Eansom.  And  it  is  for 
every  due  time,  every  fitting  season.  Ah !  is  there  in  your 
Christian  life  any  time  that  is  not  a  due  time, — any  season 
that  is  not  a  fitting  season  for  this  testimony  1  for  the  man 
Christ  Jesus,  the  Mediator,  the  Eansom,  being  testified, 
through,  the  Spirit,  in  thee,  and  by  thee  1  What  are  all  thy 
days  and  occasions,  all  thine  exigencies  and  trials,  all  thine 
opportunities,  all  thy  experiences,  of  whatever  sort ;  but  each 
and  all  of  them  fitting  seasons,  due  times,  for  this  testimony 
concerning  the  man  Christ  Jesus  being  accepted,  inwardly 
realised,  and  openly  exhibited  1 

For  thyself,  I  urge  thy  recognition  ahvays  of  him  of  whom 
I  testify,  the  man  Christ  Jesus.  For,  whatever  the  time, 
whatever  the  season,  it  is  a  due  time,  a  fitting  season,  for  his 
being  testified  to  thee,  by  the  Spirit,  as  being  present  with 
thee.  As  thou  walkest  the  streets,  or  journeyest  along  the 
road,  he  talks  with  thee  by  the  way,  and  opens  to  thee  the 
Scriptures  concerning  himself;  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  who 
taught  thus  of  old  in  Galilee  and  Jewry,  speaking  as  never 
man  spoke.  As  thou  sittest  at  meat,  he  breaks  bread  with 
thee,  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  in  whose  living,  personal,  human 
and  divine  fellowship,  the  first  disciples  at  Jerusalem  did  eat 
their  meat  with  gladness  and  singleness  of  heart.     As  thou 


42  THE  MAN  CHKIST  JESUS. 

visitest  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction,  he  goes 
with  thee,  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  who  in  all  their  affliction 
is  himself  afflicted.  As  thou  art  wearied  among  the  workers 
of  iniquity  whom  thou  art  seeking  to  turn  to  righteousness, 
ready  to  complain,  "  Who  hath  believed  our  report  1 " — 
see,  ever  near  thee,  at  thy  side,  the  man  Christ  Jesus, 
who  endured  such  contradiction  of  sinners  against  himself, 
and  whose  prayer  on  the  cross  was,  "  Father,  forgive  them, 
for  they  know  not  what  they  do  ! "  0  my  friends,  apprehend 
thus  always,  everywhere,  as  testified  in  due  time  and 
fitting  season  to  be  present  with  you,  testified  by  the 
Holy  Ghost  taking  of  what  is  his  and  showing  it  to  you, 
the  man  Christ  Jesus.  Apprehend  this  especially  in  holy 
ordinances  ;  in  the  blessed  communion  of  the  Supper.  And 
be  not  slow  or  slack,  as  being  yourselves  also  testifiers, 
witnesses,  apostles,  preachers,  to  testify  to  each  and  all  of 
those  with  whom  you  come  in  contact,  and  for  each  and  all  of 
whom  you  pray,  to  testify  in  due  time; — to-day,  for  you 
know  not  if  you  shall  have  any  other  fitting  season  ; — to 
testify  to  all,  as  you  pray  for  all,  concerning  the  man  who  is 
a  "  hiding-place  from  the  wind,  and  a  covert  from  the  tempest, 
as  rivers  of  waters  in  a  dry  place,  as  the  shadow  of  a  great 
rock  in  a  weary  land  ;" — the  man  Christ  Jesus. 


THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHKIST.  43 


•III.  ^ 


THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  Ij^  CHRIST. 

"But  I  fear,  lest  by  any  means,  as  the  serpent  beguiled  Eve  through 
his  subtilty,  so  your  minds  should  be  corrupted  from  the  simpli- 
city that  is  in  Christ. " — 2  Corinthians  xi.  3. 

The  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ  stands  here  contrasted  with 
the  subtilty  of  the  serpent :  and  the  instance  given  of  the 
serpent's  subtilty  in  his  beguiling  Eve  illustrates  Avhat  is 
meant  by  the  simplicity  which  is  opposed  to  it.  In  that  first 
temptation,  all  on  the  part  of  God  was  abundantly  simple  ; 
the  command,  not  to  eat  of  the  tree,  with  the  warning,  "  In  the 
day  that  thou  eatest  thereof  thou  shalt  surely  die,"  was,  in  fact, 
simplicity  itself.  On  the  other  hand,  the  subtilty  of  the 
tempter  is  apparent  in  the  complex  and  manifold  pleading 
which  he  holds  with  Eve.  God  has  but  one  argument  against 
eating  ;  Satan  has  many  for  it ;  and  there  is  no  surer  sign  of 
subtilty  than  the  giving  of  many  reasons  for  Avhat  a  single  good 
one  would  better  justify  and  explain.  The  apologist,  conscious 
of  a  weak  and  indefensible  case,  usually  has  recourse  to  the 
multiplying  of  excuses,  often  enough  irrelevant  and  incon- 
sistent, as  if  the  heaping  of  a  number  of  weak  explanations 
upon  one  another  could  make  up  for  the  impotency  and  insuf- 
ficiency of  each  one  of  them  apart.  And  the  tempter  also 
avails  himself  of  the  same  artilice.  He  does  not  appeal  to  a 
single  motive  or  depend  on  a  single  plea  for  success.  He  pre- 
vails by  tlie  variety  rather  than  the  strength  of  his  weapons, 
as  if  he  must  first  confound,  before  he  can  conquer,  his  vie- 


44  THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHKIST. 

tim.  First  self-love  and  self-confidence  are  appealed  to  ;  sus- 
picion is  awakened  ;  and  discontent  begins  to  rankle  within. 
"  Yea,  hath  God  said,  Ye  shall  not  eat  of  every  tree  of  the 
garden  1"  Then,  to  lull  asleep  the  just  fear  of  God's  wrath, 
as  well  as  to  mar  the  full  love  of  his  goodness,  the  specious  in- 
sinuation conies  in,  "  Ye  shall  not  surely  die."  And  to  perplex 
the  matter  still  more,  obscure  and  ambiguous  hints  are  thrown 
out  as  to  the  possible  or  probable  issue  of  events,  and  the 
mind  is  cast  loose  on  a  vague  calculation  of  chances  and  con- 
sequences :  "  Ye  shall  be  as  Gods,  knowing  good  and  evil." 
Thus  complicated  is  the  subtilty  of  the  serpent ;  his  lies, 
because  they  are  lies,  must  be  multiplied,  to  prop  up  one 
another.  But  truth  is  one  ;  and  as  there  is  nothing  but 
truth,  so  there  is  nothing,  and  there  can  be  nothing,  but 
simplicity,  in  Christ :  simplicity,  as  opposed  to  subtilty,  is 
the  characteristic  feature  of  Christ  himself,  and  of  all  that 
is  his. 

The  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ  !  It  is  a  precious  and 
blessed  quality ;  and  it  may  be  discerned  all  throughout 
his  great  salvation  ;  in  every  stage  and  department  of  that 
salvation. 

I.  In  his  own  finished  work  of  righteousness  and  atone- 
ment. 

II.  In  the  free  offer  of  the  Gospel  founded  thereupon. 

III.  In  the  fulness  of  believers  as  divinely  one  with 
himself. 

IV.  In  their  following  of  him  as  their  captain  and 
example  ;  and 

V.  In  their  expectation  of  him  as  their  judge  and  reward, 
— in  all  these  five  instances  of  his  grace,  on  the  one  hand,  and 
of  your  experience  and  hope,  as  his  people,  on  the  other,  this 
distinguishing  element  may  be  noted, — and  in  contrast  with 
the  subtilty  of  the  serpent,  we  may  trace  the  simplicity  that 
is  in  Christ. 


THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHRIST.  45 

I.  There  is  simplicity  in  Christ,  as  the  Lord  our  righteous- 
ness, as  the  servant  of  the  Father,  and  the  substitute, 
surety,  and  saviour  of  the  guilty.  It  was  in  this  character 
that  he  came  into  the  world  :  and  with  entire  simplicity  did 
he  sustain  it.  It  was  the  single  object  for  which  he  lived 
and  died.  Indeed,  without  an  apprehension  of  this  leading 
aim,  the  Lord's  ministry  on  earth  is  unintelligible,  self-con- 
tradictory, and,  as  we  might  almost  say,  marked  not  by  sim- 
plicity, but  by  manifold  subtilty.  Every  theory  that  has  been 
or  can  be  proposed  of  the  suffering  life  and  cruel  death  of 
Jesus,  the  Holy  One  of  God,  apart  from  the  recognition  of  his 
vicarious  character  and  standing,  fails,  and  must  fail,  to  satisfy 
a  simple  mind.  The  Avhole  story  is  a  confused,  inconsistent, 
inextricable,  incomprehensible  enigma  ;  a  dark  riddle,  as  re- 
gards the  government  of  God  ;  a  strange  anomaly  that  shocks 
the  moral  sentiments  of  men.  It  is  the  doctrine,  or  rather 
the  fact,  of  his  substitution  for  you,  which  alone  harmonises 
and  hallows  all.  On  any  other  supposition,  the  evangelical 
records  are  as  void  of  clear  meaning  as  any  complicated  tale 
of  romantic  fiction.  At  the  very  best,  they  are  vague  anec- 
dotes and  reminiscences  of  a  remarkable  person,  of  whose 
conduct  and  fate  no  intelligible  solution  can  be  imagined.  It 
is  the  atonement  that  gives  significancy  and  unity  to  the 
whole.  Let  him  be  owned  as  the  righteousness  of  God,  in 
your  stead,  and  the  propitiation  for  your  sins,  what  simplicity 
is  there  in  Christ !  Eehold  the  Lamb  of  God,  that  taketh 
away  the  sin  of  the  world  ! 

That  there  is  no  mystery  here, — nothing  that  transcends 
man's  finite  understanding,  and  baffles  his  restless  curiosity, — 
we  are  far  from  saying.  The  substitution  of  that  Holy  One 
in  the  room  of  the  guilty  must  ever  be  a  wonder  on  earth,  in 
heaven,  and  in  hell.  But  oh  !  is  there  not  a  simplicity  in  it 
that  comes  home  to  the  heart  of  a  jDoor  despairing  sinner  ? 
He  lies  bitten  by  the  deadly  fiery  serpent,  stung  with  remorse 


46  THE  SIMPLICITY   THAT  IS  IN  CHRIST. 

for  sin,  racked  and  tortured  with  tlie  fear  of  eternal  woe. 
Behold  the  serpent  lifted  up  in  the  wilderness  !  Behold  the 
Son  of  man,  made  sin,  made  a  curse,  for  such  precisely  he  is, 
for  the  lost  world  of  which  he  is  a  most  miserable  portion, 
for  sinners,  of  whom  he  is  chief :  behold  this  Jesus,  living, 
dying,  lifted  up  upon  the  cross,  taking  the  place,  doing  the 
work,  bearing  the  doom,  of  the  condemned  victims  of  everlast- 
ing justice  ; — what  simplicity  as  well  as  worthiness  in  the  Lamb 
that  was  slain !  How  clear,  how  definite  and  precise,  how  plain 
and  unequivocal  is  this  marvellous  transaction,  this  real  atone- 
ment for  sin  !  "  Deliver  from  going  down  to  the  pit :  I  have 
found  a  ransom."  "  Awake,  0  sword,  against  my  shepherd, 
against  the  man  that  is  my  fellow."  Let  the  prisoner  go 
free  ;  let  the  guilty  criminal  be  acquitted,  justified,  accepted  ; 
for  an  infinitely  worthy  substitute  has  been  provided,  to 
undertake  all  his  responsibilities,  to  meet  all  his  obligations, 
to  answer  every  charge  in  law  against  him,  every  demand 
in  justice  upon  him,  to  plead  for  him  in  the  trial,  to  stand 
for  him  in  the  judgment, 

Alas  !  that  this  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ  should  ever 
fail  to  satisfy.  J^ay,  that  it  should  so  often — this  very  sim- 
plicity— be  the  very  offence  of  the  cross  itself  !  But  it  is  the 
policy  of  Satan  to  mar  it,  and  by  his  subtilty  to  corrupt  your 
minds  from  its  simplicity,  from  the  simplicity  that  is  in 
Christ,  and  him  crucified.  Hence  the  endless  questions  he 
has  contrived  to  raise  in  connection  with  it,  respecting  the 
secret  counsels  of  the  divine  mind,  the  abstract  principles 
of  the  divine  government,  and  other  the  like  great  matters 
and  things  too  high  for  us  ;  as  if  it  were  our  part  to  care  for 
God,  rather  than  for  ourselves,  in  this  transaction, — to  be 
more  anxious  about  his  interests  and  concerns  than  about  our 
own, — to  view  the  cross,  in  short,  rather  in  its  possible 
bearing  on  the  unknown  arrangements  of  heaven,  than  in  its 
actual  application  to  the  wants  and  woes  that  press  so  sorely 


THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHRIST.  47 

on  the  sinner  here  on  earth.  For  it  is  a  great  thing  for  the 
enemy  to  have  this  whole  affair  transferred  from  the  region 
of  reality  to  the  region  of  speculation ;  and  hence,  taking 
advantage,  not  unfrequently,  of  the  ingenuity  even  of  wise 
and  holy  men,  he  tempts  them  to  embarrass  the  simple  fact 
on  which  the  Gospel  rests,  Avith  sundry  more  than  doubtful 
disputations  on  tlie  philosophy  or  rationale  of  it. 

It  is  indeed  a  noble  exercise  of  mind  to  aim  at  seeins?  how 
God  in  his  glorious  majesty,  as  well  as  we  in  our  miserable 
need,  may  stand  related  to  the  events  of  Bethlehem,  Geth- 
semane,  and  Calvary ;  nor  is  the  inquiry  an  unprofitable  or 
unlawful  one.  The  doctrine  of  the  Atonement  is  a  most 
reasonable  doctrine ;  and  to  the  understanding,  spiritually 
enlightened,  it  opens  up  the  largest  views  of  God's  character 
and  ways,  while  it  inspires  the  lowliest  sense  of  the  exceeding 
sinfulness  of  our  sin.  But  it  is  still  not  to  the  wise  and 
prudent,  but  to  babes,  that  these  things  are  revealed  ;  and  as 
the  Lord's  new-born  babes  desire  the  sincere  milk  of  the 
word,  so  do  they  delight  in  the  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ. 
Ah  !  it  is  first  as  a  fact,  as  an  actual  substitution  of  himself 
in  their  room,  that  they,  as  sinners,  come  to  know  the  Saviour's 
cross,  and  it  is  through  their  acquaintance  with  redemption, 
as  a  real  and  literal  transaction  of  awful  imi)ort  between 
the  righteous  Father  and  his  eternal  Son  on  their  behalf, 
that  they  come,  by  means  of  that  transaction,  to  have  a 
blessed  and  rapturous  insight  into  the  very  mind  and  heart 
of  the  Godhead,  to  perceive  that  God  is  light,  to  feel  that 
God  is  love. 

For  subtle  intellects,  however,  the  snare  of  Satan's 
subtilty  is  often  too  seductive.  Tempted  to  look  on  this 
great  sight  from  a  divine,  rather  than  a  human  point  of 
view,  approaching  it,  as  it  were,  from  the  side  of  God's  high 
throne,  rather  than  from  the  abyss  of  fallen  man's  misery  and 
guilt,  they  seem  to  consult  for  God  rather   than  for  them- 


48  THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHEIST. 

selves,  to  settle  beforehand  how  God  ought  to  act,  rather  than 
helieve  what  he  tells  as  to  how  he  has  acted.  And  so  they 
frame  a  theory  of  atonement  and  redemption  accommodated 
to  their  own  ideas  of  what  the  general  government  of  God 
must  be.  They  speak  vaguely  of  his  public  justice  as  the 
ruler  of  the  universe,  rather  than  of  his  private  justice  in  his 
controversy  individually  with  themselves.  They  profess  to 
determine  what  the  ends  of  his  universal  administration 
demand,  rather  than  what  every  sin  deserves.  They  find 
manifold  good  and  plausible  reasons  of  state,  so  to  speak, 
on  the  part  of  God,  for  the  atonement,  instead  of  one 
sad  reason  of  necessity  on  the  part  of  the  sinner.  And 
thus  it  ends  in  their  representing  the  plan  of  redemption, 
with  a  sort  of  undefined,  abstract,  and  impersonal  generality 
of  statement,  as  an  expedient  for  meeting  an  exigency, 
or  getting  over  a  difiiculty,  in  the  divine  government, 
harmonising  certain  opposite  claims  and  considerations,  and 
enabling  God  to  show  himself  good  as  well  as  holy, 
gracious  as  well  as  just ;  and  all  this,  with  a  studied  avoid- 
ing of  anything  like  the  precise  idea  of  a  strictly  real  and 
literal  substitution  of  Christ  personally  in  the  stead  of  the 
sinner  personally  ;  as  if,  after  all,  the  cross  of  Calvary  were  a 
kind  of  stroke  of  policy  in  heaven's  cabinet  and  heaven's 
councils,  a  pageant,  a  spectacle,  an  exhibition  merely,  and 
not  that  dread  reality  which  made  all  hell  tremble  and 
all  heaven  rejoice,  as,  in  the  very  act  of  pouring  out  his  soul 
an  ofi'ering  for  sin,  the  Lord  addressed  himself  to  one  of  those 
whose  place  he  was  then  occupying,  whose  guilt  he  was  then 
expiating,  whose  release  he  was  then  purchasing — "  To-day 
shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  Paradise." 

0  my  friends,  let  not  your  minds  be  corrupted  from  the 
simplicity  that  is  in  Christ.  Others  may  be  careful  and 
troubled  about  the  many  reasons  that  may  be  found  in  the 
principles  of  God's  high  government,  to  explain  and  account 


THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHllIST.  49 

for  the  atonement ;  but  for  you,  one  reason  is  all  that  is 
needed, — one  good  reason, — alas  !  too  good, — that  you  have 
sinned,  that  without  shedding  of  blood  there  is  no  remission, 
that  the  blood  of  bulls  and  goats  could  never  take  away  sin, 
that  the  blood  of  Christ  his  Son  cleanseth  from  all  sin.  Yes  ! 
"  He  has  made  him  to  be  sin  for  us,  who  knew  no  sin  ;  that 
we  might  be  made  the  righteousness  of  God  in  him"  (2  Cor. 
V.  21). 

II.  As  in  his  own  finished  work  of  righteousness  and 
atonement,  so  in  the  free  offer  of  the  gospel  as  connected  with 
it,  we  may  see,  and  seeing,  we  may  bless  God  for  the  sim- 
plicity that  is  in  Christ.  How  simple,  in  every  view  of  it,  is 
the  Gospel  message  !  How  simple  in  its  freeness.  "  Ho, 
every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters,  and  he  that 
hath  no  money  :  come  ye,  buy  and  eat ;  yea,  come,  buy  wine 
and  milk  without  money,  and  without  price"  (Isa.  Iv.  1). 
"  The  Spirit  and  the  Bride  say.  Come.  And  let  him  that 
heareth  say.  Come.  And  let  him  that  is  athirst  come.  And 
whosoever  will,  let  him  take  the  water  of  life  freely"  (Eev. 
xxii.  17).  How  near  does  it  bring  Christ!  "It  is  not  in 
heaven,  that  thou  shouldest  sa}^  Who  shall  go  up  for  us  to 
heaven,  and  bring  it  unto  us,  that  we  may  hear  it,  and  do  it  1 
Neither  is  it  beyond  the  sea,  that  thou  shouldest  say.  Who 
shall  go  over  the  sea  for  us,  and  bring  it  unto  us,  that  we 
may  hear  it,  and  do  it?  But  the  word  is  very  nigh  unto 
thee,  in  thy  mouth,  and  in  thy  heart,  that  thou  may  est  do  it" 
(Deut.  XXX.  12-14).  "The  righteousness  which  is  of  faith 
speaketh  on  this  wise.  Say  not  in  thine  heart,  Who  shall 
ascend  into  heaven?  (that  is,  to  bring  Christ  down  from  above :) 
or,  Who  shall  descend  into  the  deep  ?  (that  is,  to  bring  up 
Christ  again  from  the  dead).  But  what  saith  it  ?  The  word 
is  nigh  thee,  even  m  thy  mouth,  and  in  thy  heart :  that  is, 
the  word  of  faith  which  we  preach ;  that  if  thou  shalt  con- 

E 


50  THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN   CHRIST. 

fess  with  thy  mouth  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  shalt  believe  in 
thine  heart  that  God  hath  raised  him  from  the  dead,  thou 
shalt  be  saved"  (Eom.  x.  6-9).  How  very  plain  as  well 
as  pathetic  is  the  Lord's  pleading  with  sinners  !  "  As  though 
God  did  beseech  you  by  us  :  we  pray  you  in  Christ's  stead,  be 
ye  reconciled  to  God"  (2  Cor.  v.  20).  "  Come  now,  and  let 
us  reason  together,  saith  the  Lord  :  Though  your  sins  be  as 
scarlet,  they  shall  be  as  white  as  snow ;  though  they  be  red 
like  crimson,  they  shall  be  as  avooI  "  (Isa.  i.  18).  How 
explicit,  how  unequivocal,  are  his  assurances !  "  Turn  ye,  turn 
ye,  why  will  ye  die  1  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of 
him  that  dieth,  saith  the  Lord  God  :  wherefore  turn  your- 
selves, and  live  ye"  (Ezek.  xvhi.  32).  "As  I  live,  saith  the 
Lord,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked ;  but 
that  the  wicked  turn  from  his  way  and  live  :  turn  ye,  turn  ye 
from  your  evil  ways  ;  for  why  will  ye  die,  0  house  of  Israel  1" 
(Ezek.  xxxiii.  11).  "  Him  that  cometh  unto  me,  I  will  in  no 
wise  cast  out"  (John  vi.  37).  How  clear,  how  undeni- 
ably palpable  and  peremptory,  as  it  might  seem  beyond  its 
being  possible  for  any  sophistry  to  torture  it,  is  the  de- 
claration of  the  Lord's  will  that  all  men  should  be  saved 
and  should  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth,  and  his 
command  that  all  men  everywhere  should  repent. 

Yet,  need  I  say  to  you,  my  friends,  that  it  is  here  very 
especially  that  Satan  puts  forth  all  his  subtilty  to  beguile  1  You 
are  not  ignorant,  I  am  persuaded,  of  his  devices.  You  know  how 
many  reasons  for  doubt  and  unbelief  he  can  contrive  to  set 
up  against  God's  one  reason  for  believing.  Here  am  I — a  lost 
sinner.  There  is  Christ,  a  living  Saviour.  I  am  commanded 
to  believe ;  and  if  I  believe  not,  I  perish.  But  here  is  a  test. 
Is  there  ever  any  one  of  all  his  reasons  that  is  not  founded  on 
a  perhaps  1  It  was  upon  a  perhaps  that  he  persuaded  his 
poor  beguiled  victims  at  first  to  risk  their  paradise,  their 
souls,  their  all ;  ye  shall  not  surely  die  !     And  it  is  by  a  per- 


THE  SIMrLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CIIKIST.  51 

haps  still,  or  by  many  a  perhaps,  that  he  would  beguile 
poor  sinners,  to  keep  them  away  from  Christ.  Thus,  as 
to  the  Father  :  it  may  be  that  you  are  not  elected ;  that 
your  name  may  not  be  in  the  book  of  life ;  or  as  to  the 
Son  :  Christ  died  only  for  his  sheep,  and  you  may  not  be  one 
of  them.  Or  again  as  to  the  Holy  Ghost :  as  you  may 
not  be  an  object  of  the  electing  love  of  the  Father,  and  the 
saving  work  of  the  Son,  so  you  may  not  be  a  subject  of  the 
converting  grace  of  the  Spirit.  You  may  have  committed  the 
unpardonable  sin ;  you  may  have  persevered  in  sin  so  long  as 
to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  renewal  and  repentance  ;  you  may 
have  offended  God  beyond  the  hope  of  his  being  ever  ap- 
peased ;  or  crucified  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  and  put  yourself 
out  of  the  range  of  his  sacrifice ;  or  quenched  the  Spirit  be- 
yond hope  of  any  revival :  your  sin  may  be  so  heinous,  your 
backsliding  so  inexcusable,  your  hardness  of  heart  so  great, 
that  though  all  other  sinners  might  find  mercy,  there  may  be 
none  for  you.  Or,  yet  once  more,  as  to  the  supposed  con- 
ditions of  your  being  saved  :  perhaps  you  are  not  convinced 
enough  of  your  sin,  or  sorry  enough  for  it ;  or  perhaps  you 
are  not  repenting  aright,  or  not  believing  aright,  or  not  seek- 
ing and  praying  aright ;  or  you  may  not  be  willing  enough, 
or  you  may  not  be  able  enough,  or  you  may  not  have  know- 
ledge enough,  or  faith  enough,  or  love  enough,  and  so  on ; 
with  may-hes  and  i^erhapses  heaped  on  one  another,  Satan, 
playing  into  your  own  natural  fears  and  feehngs,  would  keep 
you  hesitating  and  halting,  balancing  scruples  and  weighing 
doubts  for  ever. 

But  it  is  upon  no  may-be,  upon  no  perhaps,  that  the 
blessed  Lord  invites  you  to  commit  your  soul  to  him.  He 
does  not  multiply  uncertain  reasonings  and  pleadings.  He 
has  but  one  word  to  you.  And  that  word  is  true.  He  has 
confirmed  it  by  an  oath.  "As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord,  I  have 
no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  him  that  dieth."     He  has  sworn 


52  THE   SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHRIST. 

by  himself,  "  I,  even  I,  am  he."  "  Look  unto  me  and  be  ye 
saved,  all  the  ends  of  the  earth."  He  has  but  one  voice,  the 
voice  of  tender  entreaty,  Turn  ye,  turn  ye.  He  has  but  one 
argument,  the  argument  of  the  cross,  a  full  atonement  made 
for  guilt  of  deepest  dye,  an  everlasting  righteousness  brought 
in,  a  sufficient  satisfaction  made  to  the  righteous  law,  and  a 
welcome,  without  ujobraiding  and  without  reserve,  awaiting 
the  very  chief  of  sinners. 

0  my  friends,  let  no  subtilty  of  Satan  ever  beguile  you, 
or  corrupt  your  minds  from  the  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ, 
in  his  gospel  offer  of  a  free,  a  full,  a  present  salvation.  And 
be  not  careful  to  answer  Satan's  manifold  subtilty ;  be  content 
to  set  over  against  it  the  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ.  Ah  ! 
there  is  nothing  Satan  likes  better  than  to  draw  you  into 
argument  and  debate ;  he  would  fain  entangle  you  in  his  web 
of  sophistry,  by  getting  you  to  take  up  and  discuss  his 
specious  reasonings  in  detail. 

Thou  poor  soul,  scarce  escaped  out  of  his  net,  thou  knowest 
these  wiles  of  the  devil.  It  was  in  many  meshes  he  tried  ta 
involve  thee ;  it  was  by  many  ties  he  tried  to  bind  thee ;  and 
while  thou  wast  painfully  seeking  to  unravel  each  miserable 
thread,  to  unloose  each  small  and  cunning  knot,  how  did  he 
keep  thee  fluttering  and  vainly  panting  to  be  free. 

And  oh  !  the  first  glimpse  thou  didst  get  of  the  simplicity 
that  is  in  Christ !  the  first  apprehension,  the  first  taste,  of  the 
free,  the  simple,  the  unencumbered  Gospel  of  the  grace  of 
God  !  What  a  reUef !  What  a  release !  The  scales  fell  from 
thine  eyes  !  Like  Samson  awaking,  thou  didst  tear  off  from 
thy  limbs  ten  thousand  chains  of  Satan's  lying  sophistry,  as, 
with  a  sovereign  pardon  in  thy  hand  thou  didst  walk  forth 
out  of  thy  prison,  erect  now  and  bold — in  the  broad  light  of 
God's  reconciled  countenance.  It  was  then  that  by  a  single  word 
of  power  and  peace — "  Come  unto  me" — "  It  is  I" — "  Thy  sins 
be  forgiven  thee," — thy  Lord  dissipated  the  entire  host  of  thy 


THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHRIST.  53 

spiritual  enemies  ;  and  the  new  glad  song  of  liberty  he  put 
into  your  lips  was,  "  Blessed  be  the  Lord,  who  hath  not  given 
us  as  a  i")rey  to  their  teeth  !  Our  soul  is  escaped  as  a  bird  out 
of  the  snare  of  the  fowlers ;  the  snare  is  broken,  and  we  are 
escaped." 

III.  As  there  is  the  simplicity  of  actual  reality  in  the 
great  Atonement,  and  the  simplicity  of  earnest  sincerity  in 
the  gospel  offer,  so  in  respect  also  of  the  completeness  of 
believers  as  one  with  Jesus,  we  may  note  the  simplicity  that 
is  in  Christ.  Here  we  speak  to  you  in  the  language  of  the 
apostle,  as  espoused  to  Christ ;  presented  to  him  as  a  chaste 
virgin  to  a  loving  husband ;  and  we  would  be  jealous  over 
you  with  a  godly  jealousy ;  for  duplicity  now  on  your  part 
towards  him  is  nothing  short  of  spiritual  adultery,  and  is  sadly 
inconsistent  with  the  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ  towards  you. 
And  what,  the  apostle  adds  (ver.  4),  would  you  have  1  Would 
you  have  one  to  come  to  you  with  another  Jesus  to  preach  to 
you,  another  Spirit  for  you  to  receive,  another  Gospel  for  you 
to  accept  1  Are  je  so  soon  weary  of  the  homely  fare  of  the 
Lord's  kingdom  that  ye  would  look  out  for  new  and  foreign 
dainties  1  Are  your  minds  corrupted  from  the  simplicity  of 
Christ  ?  Alas !  it  is  to  be  feared  that  the  serpent  who 
beguiled  Eve  through  his  subtilty,  has  been  busy  Avith  your 
minds  too.  He  contrived  to  make  her  dissatisfied  even  with 
the  simplicity  of  Paradise.  Is  he  making  you,  in  like 
manner,  dissatisfied  with  the  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ  1 

Call  to  mind  here,  my  friends,  the  circumstances  of  our 
first  parents,  and  the  subtilty  of  Satan  in  that  first  temptation 
that  beguiled  them.  In  the  garden  of  Eden  they  had  all 
things  riclily  to  enjoy.  Of  every  tree  of  the  garden  they 
might  freely  eat.  It  Avas  a  simple  grant  of  all  the  happiness 
of  which  their  pure  nature  was  susceptible  that  was  made  to 
them  by  their  bountiful  Creator.     But  the  very  simplicity  of 


54  THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHEIST. 

the  grant  was  a  stumbling-block  to  them.  The  single  test  of 
their  loyaltj^, — in  itself  simple  enough  too, — became  irksome. 
Satan  had  a  more  excellent  way.  He  would  improve  u^jon 
the  divine  method  of  Eden's  holy  joys,  and  make  their 
position  yet  more  perfect  and  more  free.  "  Ye  shall  be  as 
gods,  knowing  good  and  evil."  It  was  a  subtle  snare.  Ye  are 
treated  now  as  children ;  your  innocence  is  the  innocence  of 
ignorance,  and  ignorance,  too,  is  all  your  bliss.  Be  knowing; 
and  be  as  gods. 

So  the  serpent  beguiled  Eve  through  his  subtilty,  causing 
her  to  be  discontented  with  the  simple  profusion  of  Eden's 
blessings  and  the  simple  tenure  on  which  she  held  them. 
And  the  like  spirit  of  discontent  he  would  fain  cherish  in 
you  in  regard  to  the  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ.  Of  that 
simplicity  you  that  are  in  Christ  have  some  experience.  It 
is  the  simplicity  of  a  rich  and  royal  liberality,  alike  in  his 
gifts  and  in  his  manner  of  giving.  How  simple,  in  every 
view  of  it,  is  his  treatment  of  you,  my  brethren  that  are  his, 
— you  that  are  in  him.  "Ye  are  complete  in  him."  "  All  things 
are  yours."  All  that  he  has  is  yours.  The  perfection  of  his 
righteousness,  the  fulness  of  his  grace  and  truth,  the  holiness 
of  his  divine  nature,  the  riches  of  his  divine  glory,  his  blessed 
relation  of  sonship  to  the  Father,  the  unction  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  wherewith  he  was  anointed,  the  love  with  which  the 
Father  hath  loved  him,  the  reward  with  which  the  Father 
hath  crowned  him,  all  his  possessions,  in  short,  and  all  the 
pure  elements  of  his  own  inmost  satisfaction,  his  rest,  his 
peace,  his  joy,  all,  all  he  shares  with  you,  simply,  bountifully, 
unreservedly;  and  all  upon  the  simple  footing  of  your  only 
being  in  him  and  abiding  in  him. 

What  simplicity  is  this  !  And  yet,  my  friends,  you  may 
be  tempted  to  weary  of  it.  Even  Paradise  itself  began  to 
grow  tame  and  insipid.  The  even  tenor  of  its  peaceful  and 
placid  way,  the   noiseless  unbroken   current  of  its   smooth 


THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHRIST.  55 

waters  of  delight,  was  felt  to  be  dull  and  slow  ;  and  its 
inmates  became  impatient  for  a  change.  They  disliked  the 
level  uniformity  of  mere  creature  innocency,  and  the  humility 
of  prolonged  dependence  on  their  most  beneficent  Creator. 
They  would  take  a  shorter  and  more  summary  road  to  per- 
fection, they  would  be  as  gods  themselves,  knowing  good 
and  evil.  Is  there  never  anything  like  this,  my  friends, 
in  your  spiritual  experience  1  Are  there  never  seasons 
when  the  whole  ordinary  routine  of  your  wonted  spiri- 
tual exercises  seems  weary,  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable  1  Is 
it  a  time  of  heaviness  vnth.  you  ?  of  falling  away  from  your 
first  love  1  of  collapse  after  excitement  1  of  dulness  after 
ecstasy,  and  listless  languor  following  upon  some  agitating  or 
exhilarating  crisis  in  your  history  1  Who  shall  prescribe  for 
such  a  spiritual  malady  1  What  can  we  say  to  you  that  will 
not  fall  as  a  thrice-told  tale  upon  your  ear"?  To  tell  you 
again  merely  of  Christ,  to  rehearse  the  old  story  of  his  suf- 
ferings and  death,  to  assure  you  over  and  over  of  the  sufii- 
ciency  of  his  atonement,  the  freeness  of  his  gospel,  the  jDro- 
mise  of  his  Spirit, — to  speak  to  you  still  of  nothing  but  the 
efficacy  of  faith,  and  the  power  of  prayer,  and  the  consolation 
of  the  word,  and  the  lowly  duty  of  simple  waiting  on  the 
Lord,  that  he  may  renew  your  soul, — all  this  is  but  to  charm 
ache  with  air  and  agony  Avith  words,  to  patch  grief  with 
proverbs.  It  is  all  true,  you  say,  incontrovertibly  true  : 
you  know  it  all  and  you  believe  it  all ;  and  yet  you  feel 
wretched,  and  dull,  and  dead.  Is  there  no  more  sovereign 
specific  for  ministering  to  a  mind  diseased  1  Is  there  no 
fresh  expedient  for  reawakenmg  the  dormant  feelings  of  the 
heart  1  Is  there  no  royal  road  to  a  holier  and  happier 
state  1 

Alas  !  my  friends,  yours  is  the  very  frame  of  mind  for 
Satan's  subtlest  policy  to  work  on.  To  you  he  comes  as  an 
angel  of  light !  proposing  some  specious  novelties  in  doctrine, 


56  THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHKIST. 

refinements  upon  the  commonplace  tlireadbare  preaching  of 
the  cross  ;  or  suggesting  new  modes  of  worship  or  of  fellow- 
ship, expedients  for  improving  upon  the  ordinary  means  of 
growth  in  grace  and  progress  in  holiness.  It  is  the  frame  of 
mind  with  which  heresiarchs  of  all  sorts,  whether  cold  and 
calculating,  or  warm  and  enthusiastic,  know  well  how  to  deal. 
Let  church  history,  modern  as  well  as  ancient,  testify  !  At 
such  seasons,  brethren,  he  ye  especially  on  your  guard  !  Seek 
not  relief  impatiently  by  devices  of  your  own  or  of  others 
who  may  plausibly  profess  to  pity  you.  "Wait  on  the  Lord. 
Stand  on  the  old  paths.  Let  his  word  still  be  your  stay; 
continue  in  prayer,  and  faint  not.  Wait,  I  say,  on  the  Lord. 
"  It  is  good  that  a  man  should  both  hope  and  quietly  wait  for 
the  salvation  of  the  Lord."  "  "Weeping  may  endure  for  a 
night,  but  joy  cometh  in  the  morning."  Abide  still  in  Christ. 
Look  to  him  as  at  the  first.  Deal  with  him  as  a  poor,  empty 
soul,  with  a  rich,  full,  loving  Saviour.  Go  not  elsewhere,  but 
only  to  Christ.  All  things  around  you  change.  All  within 
you  changes.  But  keep  on  trusting  in  Mm.  Though  he  slay 
me,  he  is  the  same.  "  "Who  is  among  you  that  feareth  the 
Lord,  that  obeyeth  the  voice  of  his  servant,  that  walketh  in 
darkness,  and  hath  no  light  1  Let  him  trust  in  the  name  of 
the  Lord,  and  stay  upon  his  God."  Let  him  not  kindle  a  fire 
of  his  own,  or  walk  in  the  sj)arks  men  may  kindle.  Let  him 
still  wait  on  the  Lord,  Avho  will  cause  light  to  arise. 

IV.  Great  and  manifest  as  is  the  simplicity  that  is  in 
Christ  your  Lord,  in  his  work  of  righteousness  and  atone- 
ment for  you,  in  the  free  offer  of  his  gospel  to  you,  and  in 
his  uniting  you  to  himself,  and  associating  you  with  himself 
in  all  that  is  his ;  it  is  not  less  apparent  in  his  guidance  of 
you,  as  your  captain  and  example.  I  will  guide  thee,  says 
the  Lord  to  the  happy  man  whose  iniquity  is  forgiven,  whose 
sin  is  not  imputed,  and  in  whose  spirit  there  is  no  guile, — I 


THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHRIST.  57 

will  guide  thee  with  mine  eye  (Ps.  xxxii.  9)  : —  a  manner  of 
guiding  peculiarly  and  pre-eminently  simple.  It  is  opposed 
to  the  use  of  mere  hrute  force,  or  the  mere  compulsion  of 
threatening  and  terror,  the  bit,  the  bridle,  the  uplifted  rod, 
the  inflicted  stroke,  the  mere  scourge  or  rein  of  absolute 
authority,  softened  perhaps  by  coaxing,  flattery,  and  cajoling 
falsehood.  To  be  guided  by  the  Lord  with  his  eye, — what 
docility  does  this  imply  in  you,  what  simplicity  in  Christ ! 

Observe  the  conditions  of  such  a  guidance  as  this.  In 
all  guidance  of  beings  endowed  with  reason,  conscience,  and 
free  will,  four  things  are  ordinarily  indispensable ;  a  rule,  a 
motive,  an  inward  power,  an  upward  or  onward  pattern. 
In  the  case  of  men  naturally,  of  you  in  your  unconverted 
state,  and  out  of  Christ,  what  are  these  1  (1.)  The  rule — the 
law  of  course  ;  but  it  is  the  law  which  you  feel,  if  strictly 
applied,  must  condemn  you,  and  therefore  presume  that  it  must 
admit  of  relaxation.  (2.)  The  motive — a  mere  sense  of 
necessity,  a  feeling  that  you  must  do  some  homage.  (3.)  The 
power  in  you — your  own  frail  resolution.  (4.)  The  pattern 
before  you — some  one  of  the  better  sort  among  yourselves. 

But  mark  the  change,  when,  as  pardoned  sinners,  ransomed 
criminals,  adopted  children,  you  are  guided  by  the  Lord  with 
his  eye.  (1.)  As  to  the  rule,  it  is  the  law  still,  but  it  is  not 
the  dead  letter,  but  the  living  spirit  of  the  law.  It  is  not 
the  law  in  its  condemning  form  of  a  covenant  of  works, 
bringing  you  under  the  sentence  of  death,  and  putting  you  to 
all  subtle  shifts  to  evade  it.     Lut  it  is  the  law  as  magnified 

O 

and  made  honourable  by  our  righteous  and  suffering  substi- 
tute, the  law  as  satisfied,  and  therefore  justifying,  the 
law  of  the  spirit  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus,  the  law  of  liberty, 
the  law  of  love.  Then  (2.)  As  to  the  motive,  it  is  not  the 
desperate  desire  of  some  sort  of  partial  and  precarious  ac- 
commodation yet  to  be  effected,  but  the  sweet  sense  of  full 
and  perfect  reconciliation  already  freely  and  graciously  secured. 


58  THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT   IS  IN  CHRIST. 

Again  (3.)  As  to  the  inward  moving  power,  it  is  the  indwelling 
and  inworking  of  the  spirit  of  Christ.  You  are  strengthened 
with  might  by  the  Spirit  in  the  inner  man  ;  Christ  dwells  in 
your  heart  by  faith.  And  (4.)  As  to  the  ideal,  or  model,  or 
example,  it  is  Christ  himself  It  is  a  guidance  (1)  according  to 
the  free  sj)irit,  and  not  the  mere  servile  letter  of  the  law  ; 
(2)  through  the  motive,  not  of  a  servile  dread  of  still  im- 
pending wrath,  but  of  love  to  him  who  has  first  loved  us ;  (3) 
by  the  power  of  that  Spirit  abiding  in  us,  who  worketh  in  us, 
both  to  will  and  to  do  of  God's  good  pleasure ;  and  (4)  in  the 
very  steps  of  him  who  hath  left  us  an  example,  and  to  whom 
we  are  to  look  as  the  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith,  who,  for 
the  joy  set  before  him,  endured  the  cross,  despising  the  shame, 
and  is  set  down  at  the  right  hand  of  the  throne  of  God. 

Surely  there  is  great  simplicity  in  such  guidance  as 
this.  It  is  throughout  the  guidance,  not  of  arbitrary 
force,  but  of  reason  and  good  feeling  ;  not  of  fear,  but 
of  love  ;  not  of  the  flesh,  but  of  the  Spirit ;  not  of  a 
miserably  inadequate  model,  but  of  a  perfect  pattern  ; 
not  of  the  letter,  but  of  the  spirit  of  the  law.  The  sim- 
plicity of  it  lies  in  its  appealing  to  our  highest  sense  of 
honour,  our  most  generous  and  disinterested  feelings  of  grati- 
tude and  honour.  There  is  unity,  and  therefore  simplicity, 
in  the  reference  throughout  to  the  one  Lord,  for  the  rule,  the 
motive,  the  inspiring  power,  and  the  animating  pattern. 

But  the  subtilty  of  Satan,  how  manifold  is  it,  how  compli- 
cated are  his  insidious  wiles,  in  this  department,  especially,  of  a 
holy  walk,  or  of  right  and  faithful  discharge  of  practical  duty. 
What  a  subtle  science  is  casuistry,  the  science,  in  a  special 
sense,  of  Satan,  in  which  he  is  peculiarly  at  home.  How  in- 
geniously does  he  multiply  his  pleas  in  reference  to  all  the 
several  parts  of  evangelical  holiness,  the  rule,  the  reason,  the 
power,  the  pattern. 

(1.)  For  the  rule, — oh  it  cannot  always  be  the  strict  unbend- 


THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IX  CHRIST.  59 

ing  morality  of  the  ten  commandments.  That  standard  it 
may  be  right  and  necessary  generally  to  maintain,  to  guard 
against  flagrant  Antinomian  and  licentious  abuses.  But  all 
men  except  recluses  know  that  allowances  must  be  made 
in  social  life,  and  regard  must  be  had  to  circumstances,  and 
within  certain  limits  there  must  be  an  accommodation  of 
what  God  requires  to  what  the  world  will  bear. 

Then  (2.)  the  motive  of  all  you  do  ought  doubtless  to  be 
not  servile  fear,  but  filial  love,  not  the  mere  dread  of  being 
visited  with  punishment,  but  the  desire  to  please,  and  it  is 
plain  that  this  motive  has  a  very  large  and  wide  sweep,  and 
might  prompt  many  a  generox;s  and  even  chivalrous  service 
and  sacrifice  in  God's  cause,  from  which  the  other  motive 
might  hold  you  excused.  Still,  practically,  as  things  now 
are,  it  is  a  great  matter  if  a  Christian  mixing  with  society 
keep  clear  of  what  is  positively  forbidden,  and  if  nothing 
palpably  wrong  can  be  established  against  him. 

And  so  also  (3.)  as  to  the  power,  it  is  admitted  vaguely  and 
generally,  that  you  have  a  promise  of  divine  aid  to  help 
your  infirmities  and  strengthen  you  for  the  Lord's  work  and 
warfare.  But  this,  alas  !  does  not  hinder  a  large  measure  of 
the  very  same  apologetic  pleading  of  human  frailty  by  Avhich 
worldly  men  are  wont  to  palliate  their  shortcomings  and 
excesses. 

And  finally  (4.)  when  we  look  to  the  pattern,  how  aptly 
does  Satan  teach  us  to  evade  the  obligation  of  a  ftill  follow- 
ing of  Christ,  by  suggesting  sundry  qualifications  and  limita- 
tions,— as  that  there  are  many  things  in  which  Christ,  being 
divine,  must  be  admitted  to  be  inimitable, — until  at  last  we 
come  to  feel  practically,  either  that  the  imitation  of  him  is  a 
mere  fiction,  or  that  we  are  to  fix  for  ourselves  wherein,  and 
to  what  extent  it  is  to  be  realised. 

0  be  not  corrupted  from  the  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ, 
as  guiding  his  people  with  his  eye  according  to  the  spirit  of 


60  THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHRIST. 

his  own  holy  law,  through  the  sweet  constraining  influence  of 
love  to  himself,  by  the  power  of  his  Spirit  abiding  in  them 
as  in  him,  and  after  the  high  example  he  has  left  them  that 
they  should  follow  his  steps.  Ah  !  it  is  a  blessed  simplicity  ! 
It  is  the  eye  of  Christian  love.  It  is  the  charm  of  Christian 
life.  To  me  to  live  is  Christ :  Christ  the  rule  ;  Christ  the 
motive  ;  Christ  the  power ;  Christ  the  pattern.  To  live 
under  Christ,  for  Christ,  by  Christ,  after  Christ ;  to  live, 
yet  not  I  but  Christ  living  in  me, — and  I  living  the  life  I 
now  live  in  the  flesh  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God,  who 
loved  me  and  gave  himself  for  me. 

V.  The  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ  may  be  noted  in  con- 
nection with  his  second  coming  and  glorious  appearing.  Here 
Satan  has  been  expending  not  a  little  of  his  subtilty,  through- 
out all  ages  of  the  Church's  history,  sometimes  hiding  this 
great  doctrine,  or  contriving  to  have  it  kept  in  abeyance,  and 
at  other  times  complicating  and  embarrassing  it,  mixing  up  with 
it  a  variety  of  questions,  scarcely,  if  at  all,  bearing  on  its  real, 
vital,  and  practical  import. 

For,  in  truth,  as  to  all  that  is  essential  and  influential,  it 
would  seem  to  be  simple  enough.  The  Lord  cometh  as  our 
Judge.  He  cometh  as  our  exceeding  great  reward.  We  are 
to  appear  before  his  judgment  seat ;  we  are  to  be  with  him 
where  he  is,  to  see  and  share  his  glory.  And  if  we  add  that 
his  coming  for  these  high  ends  is  to  be  apprehended  by  us  as 
both  sudden  and  near  at  hand,  we  seem  to  have  the  main 
substance  of  the  believer's  very  simple,  but  very  glorious  and 
very  awful  hope. 

Thus  regarded,  it  is  practically  a  most  influential  hope  ; 
influential  for  its  very  simplicity.  It  sets  you  upon  working, 
watching,  waiting  for  the  Lord.  You  work  for  him  as  ser- 
vants, not  wicked  and  slothful,  but  diligent,  as  those  who  must 
give  account  to  him.     You  watch  for  him,  with  loins  girt 


THE   SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHRIST.  Gl 

and  lamp  burning, — not  sleeping  as  do  others,  but  watching 
and  being  sober,  as  children  of  the  light  and  of  the  day,  put- 
ting off  sleep  and  drunkeimess  and  all  works  of  the  night, — 
putting  on  the  whole  armour  of  light,  looking  up,  looking  out, 
as  not  knowing  at  what  hour  the  Master  may  come.  You 
wait  for  him.  You  wait,  with .  what  ardent  longing  !  I 
wait  for  the  Lord.  Yea,  more  than  they  that  watch  for 
the  morning.  When  shall  the  day  dawn  and  the  shadows 
flee  away  1  Oh,  when  shall  I  welcome  my  returning 
Saviour"?  You  wait  for  him  with  increasing  ardour,  as  your 
growing  likeness  to  him  makes  his  fellowship  more  congenial  ; 
and  sorrows  and  separations  set  you  more  and  more  upon  the 
anticipation  of  future  reunion  in  him.  You  wait,  how- 
ever, still,  how  patiently  !  reconciled  to  every  hard  duty 
and  every  irksome  trial  by  the  promise  of  the  Comforter 
now,  and  the  sure  hope  of  glory  at  the  last.  Now  to  bo 
thus  working,  watching,  waiting  for  the  Lord,  how  simple  and 
how  blessed  an  attitude  !  And  thus  to  use  for  comfort  and 
edification  the  great  doctrine  of  his  coming  again,  is  surely  to 
act  according  to  the  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ. 

Other  inquiries  there  may  be,  of  interest  in  their  place,  re- 
specting the  times  and  seasons  and  events  connected  with  the 
close  of  this  world's  dark  history  and  the  ushering  in  of  a 
better  day.  But  let  not  such  detaileel  and  complicated  in- 
vestigations, which  surely  after  all  are  to  the  believer  person- 
ally of  subordinate  importance,  as  well  as  of  uncertain  issue, 
be  so  blended  with  the  one  grand  outline  of  Jesus  coming 
again  to  receive  his  people  to  himself,  as  to  mar  the  impres- 
sion of  its  sublime  and  majestic  unity  and  simplicity. 

This  Avas  a  warning  needed  in  the  early  church,  as  the 
apostle  himself  testifies,  when  some  used  the  doctrine  to  de- 
ceive and  perplex  ;  and  he  found  it  necessary,  that  he  might 
prevent  plain  believers  from  being  shaken  in  mind  and 
troubled,  to  give  an  express  and  authoritative  contradiction 


62  THE   SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHRIST. 

to  some  of  the  rmnours  that  had  been  raised  and  circulated. 
And  no  intelligent  observer,  either  of  the  past  or  of  the  pre- 
sent, will  deny  the  necessity  of  a  similar  caution  now. 

I  ask  you  to  distinguish  here  again,  and  here  especially, 
between  the  complex  and  the  simple  :  and  I  remind  you  that 
what  really  is  to  produce  the  right  moral  and  spiritual  effect 
upon  your  souls  is  not  the  crowded  canvas  and  complicated 
scenery  of  a  picture  embracing  all  the  particulars  of  a  world's 
catastrophe, — no,  not  that,  not  that  at  all,  but  the  one  dread 
and  holy  image  of  Jesus,  as  he  was  taken  up  to  heaven  on 
Mount  Olivet,  so  coming  again,  even  as  he  was  seen  to  go  ! 
Be  that  coming  when  it  may,  it  is  still,  as  the  polestar  of  the 
Church's  hope,  and  the  spur  of  her  zeal,  simple,  solemn,  in 
its  very  standing  alone,  isolated,  solitary,  separate  and  apart 
from  all  accessories  of  preceding  and  accompanying  revolutions. 

Yes  !  it  is  not  earthquakes,  or  tempests,  or  deluges  of 
fire  ;  it  is  not  falling  empires,  mighty  wars  and  tumults, 
convulsions  of  all  sorts  over  all  the  earth ;  it  is  not  Babylon 
doomed  nor  Israel  restored,  nor  all  the  vast  upheaving  of  the 
social  fabric  that  must  attend  such  vicissitudes — though  it  well 
concerns  the  slumbering  nations  to  give  heed  to  these  things, 
and  watchmen  in  Zion  must  never  cease  to  ring  in  the  ears 
of  a  scoffing  world  the  knell  of  its  approaching  dissolution  ; — 
still,  I  say,  it  is  not  these,  not  these  altogether,  nor  any  of  them, 
that  I  have  before  my  eye,  filling  my  whole  soul,  and  heart,  and 
mind,  when  I  turn  weeping  from  the  grave  of  buried  friend- 
ship, or  rise  startled  from  the  couch  of  despondency  and 
sloth — no,  but  Jesus  my  Lord,  himself  alone,  the  centre  of 
ineffable  brightness  and  beauty.  Angels  and  the  redeemed 
are  around  him  :  but  it  is  himself  alone  that  fixes  my  regard, 
and  I,  poor  miserable  I,  a  sinner  saved  by  his  grace,  a  servant 
working  for  his  hire,  a  watcher  waiting  for  his  coming, —  I 
rise,  I  rush  forth,  I  run  to  meet — nay,  I  am  caught  up  to  meet 
— my  Lord  in  the  air.     So  shall  I  be  ever  with  the  Lord. 


THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHRIST.  63 

1.  To  careless  sinners  we  have  a  word  to  say.  Tlic  sub- 
tilty  of  Satan  is  very  apt  to  beguile  and  corrupt ;  but  we 
have  to  remind  you  that  there  is  a  simplicity  in  Satan  that 
is  more  insidious  and  disastrous  still.  There  are  those  whom 
Satan  leads  captive  at  pleasure,  and  on  whom  it  is  really  not 
worth  his  while  to  waste  or  expend  his  subtilty  at  all.  When 
the  strong  man  armed  keepeth  his  palace,  his  goods  are  in 
peace  :  he  has  no  occasion  for  the  use  either  of  his  arts  or  of 
his  arms.  It  is  when  a  stronger  than  he  cometh  upon  him, 
to  overcome  him,  that  he  needs  to  have  recourse  to  the  vio- 
lence of  threats  or  the  artifice  of  alluring  wiles.  It  is  for  his 
victims  that  have  escaped,  or  that  are  escaping  from  his 
grasp,  that  he  reserves  the  practice  of  his  stratagems  :  it  is 
they  who  alas  !  from  personal  experience,  are  not  ignorant  of 
his  devices.  With  you,  who  are  going  on  contentedly  in  the 
broad  road,  he  uses  no  refinement :  to  you  his  lies  are  simple 
enough  ;  nay  he  scarcely  needs  more  than  one ;  his  old  lie 
with  which  he  began,  "ye  shall  not  surely  die."  Ah!  it  may 
well  be  that  all  our  discussions  of  nice  and  intricate  points  of 
conscience  are  unintelligible  to  you.  You  have  little  sympathy 
Avith  the  strange  varieties  of  frame  and  feeling  that  attend  a 
spiritual  awakening,  and  you  cannot  comprehend  the  turns  and 
windings  of  a  poor  soul,  hunted  as  the  wounded  hart  in  the 
desert,  and  panting  for  the  water  brooks.  How  it  should  be 
so  very  difficult  to  assuage  the  anguish  of  a  guilty  conscience, 
or  to  pacify  the  fears  of  a  broken  heart,  or  to  get  a  sinner  to 
believe  in  the  forgiveness  of  sins,  or  to  make  him  continue  to 
rely  on  the  mercy  of  heaven,  you  cannot  understand  at  all ;  it 
seems  all  to  you  so  simple,  easy,  natural ;  so  much  almost 
a  matter  of  course ;  that  you  should  be  let  alone  now  and 
let  off  somehow  at  the  last.  But  I  beseech  you  rather  to 
look  to  the  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ  than  to  lean  on  the 
simplicity  that  is  in  Satan.  The  simplicity  that  is  in  Satan  ! 
Truly  simple  enough   are  they  that  believe  his  fond   and 


64  THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHPwIST. 

simple  lie  !  But  hear  another  voice,  simple  enough  too  : 
"  How  long,  ye  simple  ones,  will  ye  love  simplicity ;  and  fools 
hate  knowledge  ?  Turn  ye  at  my  rej^roof.  Behold,  I  wiU 
pour  out  my  Spirit  unto  you,  I  will  make  Icnown  my  words 
unto  you."  And  hear  another  voice,  yet  the  same,  simple  enough 
too  !  and  awful ! — awful  for  its  simplicity.  "  Because  I  have 
called  and  ye  refused,  I  have  stretched  forth  my  hand  and 
no  man  regarded ;  but  ye  have  set  at  nought  my  counsel  and 
would  none  of  my  reproof ;  I  also  will  laugh  at  your  calamity ; 
I  will  mock  when  your  fear  cometh."  "  Then  shall  they  call 
upon  me,  but  I  will  not  answer ;  they  shall  seek  me  early, 
but  they  shall  not  find  me  ! "  "  Seek  ye  the  Lord  while  he 
may  be  found  !     Call  ye  upon  him  while  he  is  near  ! " 

2.  To  anxious  souls  I  would  say.  Let  not  the  subtilty 
of  Satan  distress  you  beyond  measure.  And  above  all, 
let  it  not  surprise  you !  Count  it  not  strange  that  you 
fall  into  divers  temptations  !  When  you  are  thus  tempted, 
do  not  yield  to  the  crowning  temptation  of  imagining 
that  your  case  is  strange  and  your  experience  singular. 
This  is  a  great  snare.  It  ministers  to  a  certain  feeling  of 
half-unconscious  self-complacency,  as  you  brood  over  diffi- 
culties and  doubts  and  embarrassments  ;  fancying  that  never 
was  there  soul-exercise,  never  soul-distress,  like  yours.  Be 
sure  that  there  hath  no  temptation  befallen  you  but  such  as 
common  to  men.  And  remember  your  way  of  escape  is  not 
the  way  of  combating  in  argument  the  subtilty  of  Satan  ;  but 
the  common,  far  safer  and  simpler  way  of  simply  acquiescing 
anew,  and  ever  anew,  in  the  simplicity  of  Christ !  For  you 
are  no  match  in  special  pleading  for  the  Master  of  that 
science  !  The  question  of  your  peace  with  God,  and  your 
comfortable  walk  with  him,  is  one  that  never  will  be  solved 
or  settled  beforehand  by  any  processes  of  subtle  reasoning. 
You  must  solve  and  settle  it  experimentally.  Taste  and  see 
that  the  Lord  is  good.     Venture  your  soul  upon  the  simpli- 


THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHEIST.  65 

city  that  is  in  Christ,  his  simple  faithfulness,  the  simpli- 
city of  his  promise, — "  Him  that  cometh  unto  me  I  ■will  in 
no  wise  cast  out."  Let  Satan  perj)lex  the  question  as  he  may. 
Let  him  conjure  up  doubtful  disputations  by  the  score, — by 
the  hundred.  Let  him  summon  a  very  legion  of  dark 
surmises  to  disconcert  you  !  Be  you  simple.  Be  you 
decided.  Linger  not.  Hesitate  not.  Do  to  God, — Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, — the  justice  you  would  be  ashamed  to 
deny  to  an  earthly  friend.  Simply  believe  that  the  Father 
means  what  he  says  when  he  beseeches  you  to  be  reconciled 
to  him  in  his  Son  ;  that  the  Son  means  what  he  says  when 
he  cries,  "  Come  unto  me,  ye  weary  ;  "  that  the  Holy  Ghost 
means  what  he  says  Avhen,  together  with  the  Bride,  he  says, 
"  Come,  take  of  the  water  of  life  freely  ! " 

3.  To  you  who  believe  I  would  say, — Let  there  be  simpli- 
city in  you  corresponding  to  the  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ. 
In  all  simplicity,  accept  Christ  as  your  substitute  !  In  all 
simplicity,  comply  with  his  call  to  come  to  him,  and  through 
him,  to  the  Father  !  In  all  simplicity,  abide  in  him  and  be 
satisfied  with  his  fulness  !  In  all  simplicity,  yield  yourselves 
to  his  gracious  and  loving  guidance  !  In  all  simplicity,  be  ever 
looking  out  for  his  glorious  coming  !  All  on  his  part, — in 
his  treatment  of  you,  in  his  offering  himself  for  you  ;  in  his 
giving  himself  to  you  ;  in  his  keeping  you  and  making  you 
complete  in  himself ;  in  his  guiding  you  with  his  eye  ;  in  his 
coming  again  to  receive  you  to  himself,  that  where  he  is  you 
may  be  also  ; — all  is  simple,  free,  generous,  unreserved  ! 
There  is  no  keeping  back  of  anything.  He  opens  his  heart, 
his  hand,  to  you  1  Let  all  on  your  part,  in  your  treatment 
of  him,  be  simple  too  !  Be  upon  honour  with  him  !  Be 
guileless,  frank,  cordial,  in  your  reliance  with  him  ;  your 
submission  to  him  ;  your  working  and  waiting  for  him  !  So 
will  you  taste  the  blessedness  of  fully  realising  the  simplicity 
that  is  in  Christ.     Yoxirs  will  be  the  enlargement  of  heart 


66  THE  SIMPLICITY  THAT  IS  IN  CHRIST. 

that,  springing  out  of  a  simple  faitli  in  Christ,  takes  in  all 
the  fulness  of  his  glorious  gospel.  Yours  will  be  the  alacrity, 
and  cheerfulness,  and  joy  of  running  with  heart  enlarged  in 
the  way  of  the  divine  commandments,  and  walking  freely  as 
well  as  humbly  with  your  God.  Your  path  will  be  as  the 
shining  light,  shining  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day. 
All  embarrassment,  all  constraint,  all  reserve,  being  at  an  end ; 
your  fellowship  in  the  Spirit  is  with  the  Father,  and  with 
his  Son  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 


DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH  CHRIST.  67 


IV. 

DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH  CHRIST. 

"  For  ye  are  dead,  and  yoiir  life  is  hid  with  Chi-ist  in  God. " — Col.  hi.  3. 

It  is  the  Christian  state  that  is  here  described ;  the  state  of 
the  real  Christian,  And  it  is  described  in  a  twofold  aspect ; 
as  a  state  of  death,  and  a  state  of  life.  The  paradox  is  not 
peculiar  to  this  passage.  We  have  it  in  Galatians  ii.  1 9,  20. 
But  it  is  put  here  in  a  very  pointed  form.  Let  us  look  at 
both  sides, 

I.  "  Ye  are  dead."  This  is  strong  language  to  be  addressed 
to  true  believers.  But  it  is  very  gracious  language.  It  is  the 
reverse  or  opposite  of  what  the  apostle  had  said  before — 
"Being  dead  in  your  sins  and  the  uncircunicision  of  your 
flesh"  (ii.  13).  Blessed  be  God !  from  that  death  you  are 
delivered.  But  you  are  dead  still.  And  it  is  your  being 
dead  still  that  explains  your  deliverance  from  the  other  death. 
I  say,  your  being  dead  still ;  now  and  always.  For  the 
apostle  does  not  speak  of  a  single  event,  consummated  at 
once,  so  as  to  be  past  and  over ;  but  of  a  prolonged  and  con- 
tinued experience.  He  says  not  merely.  Ye  died  or  have  died, 
with  Christ,  as  on  your  first  believing  in  him,  and  being 
made  partakers  of  his  death.  That  would  be  true.  For,  in 
conversion,  the  sinner  does  indeed  die  with  Christ,  being 
buried  with  him  by  baptism  into  death,  that  like  as  Christ 
was  raised  from  the  dead,  by  the  glory  of  the  Father,  even  so, 
he  also  should  walk  in  newness  of  life.  But  the  text  speaks 
not  merely  of  your  dying  once,  but  of  your  continuing  to  be 


68  DEATH  AND  LIFE  "WITH  CHKIST. 

dead.  Ye  are  dead.  The  expression  is  quite  indefinite.  Ye 
became  dead,  and  ye  are  dead  still. 

It  would  thus  appear  that  there  are  three  stages  of  tliis 
death  of  believers.  In  their  original  state  of  unconcern 
and  unbelief,  they  are  dead.  In  their  effectual  calling  by 
the  Holy  Ghost,  they  die.  And  ever  after,  so  long  as  they 
remain  on  earth,  they  are  to  reckon  themselves  dead  indeed 
(Eom.  vi.  11). 

But,  in  another  view,  it  is  the  same  death  throughout : 
the  same  state  of  being,  only  regarded,  successively,  in  different 
lights.  This  death  is,  in  other  words,  a  name  for  your 
character  and  condition,  as  you  are  in  yourselves.  That 
character  is  enmity  against  God.  That  condition  is  liability 
to  wrath.  You  are  dead,  as  not  naturally  loving,  or  willingly 
subject  to  the  Holy  God,  but  estranged  from  him.  You  are 
dead,  as  lying  helplessly  under  his  righteous  sentence  of 
condemnation.  The  only  difference,  at  different  stages  of  your 
experience,  lies  in  your  apprehension  of  this  death,  this 
character  of  enmity,  and  this  condition  of  condemnation,  as 
really  and  justly  your  own. 

I.  Naturally,  and  until  the  Holy  Spirit  work  a  decided 
change  upon  you,  in  your  effectual  calling,  you  do  not  feel 
that  such  really  is  your  character ;  you  will  not  admit  that 
such  righteously  is  your  condition.  You  put  away  from 
you  the  charge  of  enmity.  It  seems  to  you  that  you  do,  in 
some  tolerable  measure,  love  God,  and  that  you  do,  to  a 
considerable  extent,  serve  him  faithfully.  It  is  true,  indeed, 
as  you  must  confess,  that  you  are  occasionally  sadly  apt  to 
forget  God,  that  you  sometimes  grow  weary  of  his  word  and 
his  Avorship,  and  that  you  take  some  little  liberties  with  the 
strict  letter  of  his  commandments.  You  acknowledge  also 
that  you  must  plead  guilty,  at  times,  to  the  cherishing  of 
thoughts  and  the  indulgence  of  passions,  the  uttering  of 
words  and  the  allowance  of  practices,  Avhich  perhaps  may  not 


DEATH  AND  LIFE   WITH  CHEIST.  69 

be  quite  pleasing  to  him,  and  no  doubt  there  are  things  in 
your  temper  and  conduct  which  might  be  otherwise  ordered 
if  you  were  always  remembering  God.  But  all  this  is  not 
inconsistent  with  a  very  fair  amount  of  real  reverence  and 
regard  for  your  Maker  and  his  authority;  any  more  than  the 
frequent  carelessness  or  waywardness  of  a  stirring  child  must 
necessarily  be  incompatible  with  sincere  love,  at  bottom, 
towards  his  parent.  You  cannot  be  constantly  serious  and  on 
your  guard.  Perhaps,  indeed,  you  might  be  more  so  than 
you  are.  You  pretend  not  to  be  free  from  the  error  and 
infirmity  of  a  heart,  that  may,  at  times,  be  too  thoughtless  of 
God,  and  too  much  engrossed  with  other  objects.  If  that  be 
the  charge  brought  against  you,  you  can  understand  its 
meaning  and  admit  its  justice.  But  to  say  that  you  have  no 
love  to  God  at  all, — nay,  that  you  positively  hate  God, — is 
more  than  you  can  admit.  You  are  conscious  of  no  such 
aversion.     You  can  plead  guilty  to  no  such  enmity. 

And  in  regard  to  the  other  element  of  this  death,  you 
put  away  from  you  also  the  sentence  of  wrath.  For  not 
realising  your  natural  character  as  God's  enemies,  you  cannot 
realise  your  condition  as  condemned.  You  feel  indeed  that 
you  are  not  perfectly  righteous,  or  altogether  free  from  sin. 
You  do  therefore  deserve  some  punishment  at  the  hands  of 
God,  and  you  may  need  to  be  taught,  by  suffering  some  of  the 
consequences  of  your  heedlessness  and  folly,  the  necessity  of 
greater  prudence  in  future.  Of  course,  also,  you  acknow- 
ledge that  if  God  were  to  insist  on  the  rigour  of  law  to  the 
utmost,  he  might  perhaps  sentence  you  to  eternal  death. 
But  it  seems  to  you  that  it  Avould  be  strange  if  he  did  so. 
He  must  surely  deal  with  you  more  leniently,  and  as  you 
think  also,  more  fairly.  And  so  when  you  hear  of  a 
judgment  to  come,  you  cannot  imagine,  that  in  your  case,  it 
can  be  a  very  serious  or  alarming  prospect ;  or  if  it  were,  you 
cannot  think  it  would  be  just. 


70  DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH  CHRIST. 

In  this  state  of  mind  you  are  dead.  You  may  "be  living 
in  pleasure.  But  you  are  dead  while  you  live.  And  your 
death  consists  in  your  being  enemies  to  God  and  condemned 
by  God.  It  is  not  merely  your  insensibility,  or  the  deep 
slumber  of  your  soul,  or  the  dream  of  innocence  and  security, 
that  constitutes  tliis  death.  It  is  not  your  insensibility,  but 
that  to  which  you  are  insensible  ;  your  guilt  and  condemna- 
tion in  the  sight  of  an  avenging  God. 

Suppose  that  under  some  strange  hallucination  the  doomed 
felon,  with  the  very  halter  fixed  round  his  neck,  should  make 
his  escape  for  an  hour  from  the  inevitable  scaffold,  and  as- 
sume his  place  in  some  hall  of  commerce,  or  around  some 
festive  board  ;  he  is  dead,  as  a  rebel,  a  convicted  and  sentenced 
criminal.  But  -what  is  it  that  constitutes  his  death  1  'Not 
the  fitful  madness  which  shocks  his  old  companions  as  he 
thrusts  his  ill-omened  presence  among  them ;  but  the  fact 
of  his  crime  and  the  certainty  of  his  doom.  Let  his  drunken 
idiocy  pass  away.  Let  him  once  more  realise  his  position. 
It  is  death  still. 

This,  then,  is  God's  word  to  the  unconverted.  Ye  are 
dead.  As  God's  enemies,  and  as  doomed  criminals,  ye  are 
dead.  You  may  be  alive  in  your  own  opinion,  but  it  is  as 
Paul  says  he  once  was  alive.  It  is  without  the  law.  "  I 
was  alive,  righteous  enough,  safe  enough, — ay,  I  was  even  a 
favourite  of  heaven.  Sin  in  me  was  dormant  and  dead.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  all  was  right.  Alas  !  it  was  a  delusion 
altogether.  I  was  alive  -without  the  law.  The  instant  the 
commandment  came  ;  the  instant  I  was  made  to  see  and  feel 
the  full  extent  of  God's  claims  upon  me,  the  searching 
spirituality  and  holiness  of  his  law,  the  law  of  perfect 
purity,  the  law  of  perfect  love ;  sin  revived,  it  got  strength 
and  power  to  convict,  to  condemn  me,  sin  revived  and  I 
died.     Yes,  I  died." 

2.  This  is  the  second  stage.     In  your  effectual  calling  by 


DEATH  AND   LIFE  WITH  CHRIST.  7l 

the  Holy  Ghost  you  are  made  to  recognise  this  death  as  real, 
and  to  acquiesce  in  it  as  just.  Your  enmity  against  God,  and 
your  condemnation  by  God,  become  sensible  to  your  souls ; 
and  in  a  way  which  makes  you  feel  the  enmity  to  be  inex- 
cusable and  the  condemnation  to  be  righteous.  When  the 
commandment  came,  I  died  ;  I  lost  all  the  life  I  thought  I 
had,  all  the  rights,  all  the  strength,  I  once  relied  on.  I 
died,  a  lost  and  guilty  sinner,  no  longer  justifying  myself, 
accepting,  owning,  the  sentence  of  death  as  justly  mine. 

Ah  !  it  is  good  thus  to  die, — to  die  thus  now.  Better 
that  your  sin  should  find  you  out,  better  that  the  commandment 
should  come,  and  you  should  die  now,  than  that  the  terrible 
discovery  of  what  you  are,  the  shock  of  the  awakening  to  the 
reality  of  your  death,  should  be  reserved  till  the  hour  of 
doom.  For  your  sin  shall  find  you  out.  The  commandment 
must  come. 

Behold  the  awakened  sinner,  out  of  Christ,  by  himself, 
alone,  meeting  his  oj0fended  God,  and  seeing  him  as  he  is,  in 
the  hour  of  awakening,  in  the  day  of  judgment.  No  fond 
persuasion  has  he  now  that  he  has  loved  or  served  that  God 
sufficiently.  Instinctively  he  feels  at  last  that  it  was  in  a 
very  different  spirit,  and  after  a  very  different  manner,  that 
he  ought  to  have  honoured  and  obeyed  that  holy  loving  God. 
It  is  all  in  vain  now  to  call  to  mind  decencies  and  charities, 
forms  of  devotion  and  deeds  of  humanity.  The  truth  now 
bursts  on  him;  that  the  Eternal  is  a  Sovereign  ;  that  he  is  a 
Father ;  and  that  to  give  less  than  what  a  sovereign  may 
claim  and  a  father  ask,  -with  whatever  phrase  of  compliment 
or  duty,  is  but  to  cover  over  real  disaffection  and  radical 
estrangement  of  heart  from  him.  At  any  rate,  there  now  he 
stands,  before  the  sinner's  startled  eye,  inflexible,  uncompro- 
mising, terrible  in  his  wrath.  In  the  hands  of  an  angry  God, 
the  arrested  convict  is  held  fast.  He  may  affect  to  be  angry 
too.    Fain  would  he  accuse  the  Just  One  of  unfairness.    Fain 


72  DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH  CHRIST. 

would  he  charge  the  GLod  of  love  with  harshness.  But  his 
own  heart  condemns  him,  proud  and  stubborn  as  it  is.  There 
he  stands,  resisting  God,  yet  relentlessly  doomed  by  him  for 
ever. 

Were  it  not  better  far  that  your  eyes  should  now  be 
opened  to  that  scene  of  holiness  and  of  wrath,  of  unbending 
law  and  unrelenting  judgment,  which  one  day,  either  now  or 
hereafter,  you  have  to  face  ]  "Were  it  not  every  way  better 
to  have  the  bitterness  of  this  death  over  ]  And  may  it  not 
be  so  to  you  1  Was  it  not  so  to  Paul  when  he  said — "  I 
died"  1  "I  through  the  law  am  dead  to  the  law,  that  I  might 
live  unto  God.  I  am  crucified  with  Christ"  (Gal.  ii.  19,  20). 
When  the  law  kills,  it  may  be  by  a  severe  stroke.  It  may 
be  a  sharp,  a  stinging,  death.  The  humiliation,  the  shame, 
the  grief  of  it,  may  be  trying  to  flesh  and  blood,  to  heart  and 
conscience.  There  will  be  solemn  awe  and  terror  in  your 
awakening  to  the  apprehension  of  your  being  indeed  dead. 
But  there  will  be  no  resistance,  no  resentment ;  no  resistance 
to  the  holy  sovereignty  which  you  now  feel  you  have  slighted ; 
no  resentment  against  the  righteous  sentence  of  condemnation 
which  you  would  now  no  longer,  even  if  you  could,  evade. 
Tor  when  you  thus  die,  do  you  not  die  in  and  with  Christ  ? 
"  I  through  the  law  am  dead  to  the  law."  The  law  kills,  con- 
demns, slays  me,  empties  me  of  all  conceit  of  life,  inflicts  and 
executes  on  me  the  grievous  sentence  of  penal  death.  But 
lo  !  near  me,  making  liimseK  one  with  me,  making  me  one 
with  himself,  in  this  very  death,  the  Son  of  the  very  God 
whose  law  condemns  me,  the  living  Saviour !  Let  me 
make  his  death  mine,  as  he  made  my  death  his.  If  die  I 
must,  let  me  die  in  Christ.  Let  me  be  crucified  with  Christ. 
Oh  !  the  blessedness,  of  thus  perceiving,  for  the  first  time, 
what  this  death  really  is,  in  the  cross  of  your  dying  Eedeemer, 
and  feeling  yourselves  to  be  dead  indeed  only  when  you  die 
with  him.     Not  that  you  have  less  seriousness  or  sadness,  in 


DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH  CHRIST.  73 

this  way  of  becoming  acquainted  with  this  death,  than  in  the 
other  way,  of  having  trial  of  it  by  yourself  alone  without 
Christ.  ISTo  !  There  is  more,  incalculably  more.  There  is  a 
deeper  insight  into  the  claims  of  God's  holy  supremacy,  and 
the  corresponding  inexcusable  guilt  of  all  your  attempts  to- 
wards a  compromise  with  him.  There  is  a  livelier  alarm  at 
the  thought  of  your  prolonged  estrangement  from  him. 
There  is  shame  to  which  the  unbroken  heart  is  a  stranger, 
and  sorrow  such  as  a  sense  of  God's  love  alone  can  cause. 
But  along  with  all  this,  there  is  unquestioning  submission, 
so  that  you  justify  God,  even  in  that  death  to  which  he  con- 
demns you.  HoAv,  indeed,  can  it  be  otherwise  1  You  are 
crucified  with  Christ.     You  are  dead  in  him. 

3,  As  in  your  effectual  calling,  so  in  all  your  subsequent 
life  on  earth,  you  continue  to  be  thus  dead  with  Christ.  In 
fact,  you  become  so  in.  your  own  esteem  more  and  more.  Your 
growing  acquaintance  with  the  character  of  God,  with  the  ex- 
cellency of  his  law,  the  reasonableness  of  its  requirements,  the 
fulness  of  his  grace,  the  riches  of  his  salvation,  discovers  more 
and  more  your  natural  enmity  against  him.  And  then,  is  not 
your  condemnation  under  the  righteous  sentence  of  the 
law  more  and  more  thoroughly  realised  1  Your  very  union 
with  Christ,  by  which  you  become  interested  in  all  the 
efficacy  of  his  death,  gives  you  a  more  searching  insight 
into  the  meaning,  the  reality,  the  righteousness  of  that  death, 
as  endured  by  substitution  for  you,  and  as  now,  in  all  its  actual 
import,  made  really,  personally,  consciously  your  own.  Always 
you  bear  about  with  you  the  dying  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  that  the 
life  also  of  Jesus  may  be  made  manifest  in  your  mortal 
bodies. 

Ye  are  dead.  In  and  with  Christ  ye  are  habitually,  con- 
stantly, dead.  Your  sin  is  ever  before  you.  And  the  sentence 
of  your  sin  is  ever  acknowledged,  recognised,  embraced  by 
you,  as  really  and  justly  yours.     Ye  are  dead,  and  this  very 


74  DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH  CHRIST. 

death  is,  in  truth,  your  life.  For  who,  or  what  shall  slay  you 
now,  seeing  ye  are  dead  already  1  He  who  is  low  fears  no  fall. 
He  who  is  already  and  always  dead,  what  fear  can  he  have  of 
any  farther  death  1  What  fear  now  of  anything  that  may 
inflict  death  1  Does  the  law  again  point  against  me  the 
thunders  of  its  deadly  threatenings  of  wrath  1  What  harm 
can  they  do  me,  since  I  am  dead  already  1  Are  carnal  ordi- 
nances and  rudiments  of  the  world,  ceremonial  rites  and  ob- 
servances, hrought  up  in  formidable  array  to  condemn  me  for 
for  their  neglect  1  How  can  they  reach  one  who  independently 
of  them  is  otherwise,  and  by  a  prior  right,  confessedly  and 
justly  condemned  before  1  I  am  dead,  and  against  the  dead 
no  charge  can  be  brought.  I  am  dead,  and  over  the  dead  no 
enemy  has  power.  I  am  dead,  and  to  the  dead  there  is  no 
more  fear  of  death.  This  is  my  safety.  This  alone  is  my 
liberty  :  to  be  always,  in  myself,  dead.  To  cease  for  a  moment 
to  be  so  is  to  aspire  to  a  life  which  I  cannot  sustain.  It  is 
to  provoke  the  adversary  to  a  new  trial  of  strength  with  me, 
and  to  brave  anew  the  judgment  of  God's  law.  It  is  only  as  one 
dead  that  I  am  freed  from  sin,  from  its  terrors,  its  tempta- 
tions, its  triumphs  ;  and  the  more  I  die  with  Christ,  enter- 
ing into  the  meaning  of  his  cross,  reckoning  myself  to  be 
condemned  with  him,  the  more  am  I  able  to  defy  every 
attempt  to  subject  me  anew,  in  any  other  way,  to  condemna- 
tion. To  every  challenge  at  any  time  which  would  require 
me  now  to  answer  for  myself  as  a  criminal  or  as  a  rebel 
doomed  to  death,  my  reply  is  that  I  am  dead  already.  Or 
rather,  it  is  Christ's  reply  for  me.  "  He  is  dead  in  me.  My 
death  is  his."  And  I,  believing  through  grace,  acquiesce  : 
"  Yea,  Lord,  I  am  dead  in  thee.  I  live  no  more  myself.  It  is 
thou  who  art  my  life.    I  live  ;  yet  not  I :   thou  livest  in  me." 

II.  As  it  is  said  of  those  who  live  in  pleasure,  that  they 
are  dead  while  they  live,  so  it  may  be  said  of  you  who  beheve 


DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH  CHRIST.  75 

in  Jesus,  that  you  live  while  you  are  dead.  And  your  life  is 
hid  with  Christ  in  God.  Follow  Christ  now,  from  earth  to 
heaven  ;  from  the  scene  of  his  agony  here  below,  to  the 
scene  of  his  blessed  joy  in  the  presence  of  the  Father  above. 
Enter  within  the  veil,  into  the  holiest  of  all,  the  very  inmost 
recess  of  the  sanctuary  above,  into  wliich  your  Saviour  has 
passed.  What  is  the  nature  of  this  most  sacred  retreat  ]  and 
what  the  Saviour's  manner  of  life  there  1  In  the  bosom  of 
the  Father,  in  most  intimate  fellowship  with  the  Father, 
he  who  liveth  and  was  dead  is  now  alive  for  evermore.  And 
there,  where  he  is,  your  life  now  is.  It  is  with  him,  for  he  is 
your  life.  It  is  where  he  is,  and  as  his,  in  God.  And  it  is 
hid  there. 

1.  Your  life  is  with  Christ.  It  is  in  fact  identified  with 
him.     He  is  your  hfe,  and  he  is  so  in  two  respects, 

(1)  You  live  with  Christ,  as  partakers  of  his  right  to  live. 
And  oh  !  how  ample  is  that  right.  For  who  is  he  with  whom 
your  life  is  now  bound  up  1  He  has  life  in  himself  In  liis 
own  nature  he  is  originally  and  eternally  the  living  one.  For 
you,  who  are  dead,  to  be  attached  to  him,  ensures  your  life  ; 
since  then  all  his  right  and  prerogative  of  life  becomes  yours. 
Your  life  with  Christ  is  thus  the  counterpart  of  his  death  for 
you ;  and  as  he  was  willing  to  make  your  death  his  own,  so 
you  need  not  scruple  or  hesitate  to  make  his  life  yours.  For 
he  has  store  of  life  enough  for  himself  and  for  you  ;  and  you 
need  have  no  fear  of  drawing  too  largely  on  that  store.  Even 
his  dying  with  you  and  for  you  did  not  exhaust  it.  ^Neither 
will  his  taking  you  to  Uve  Avith  liim. 

If  I  am  strugghng  desperately  and  ready  to  sink  in  the 
billows  of  an  angiy  sea,  and  if  a  friend  cast  himseK  in  to  save 
me,  I  may,  by  hanging  upon  liim  and  clinging  to  him  with 
the  gripe  of  death,  merely  drag  him  down  along  Avith  me  to 
the  depths  of  a  watery  grave.  Or  if  he  undertake  to  answer 
for  me  in  the  judgment,  my  miserable  case  may  but  serve  to 


76  DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH  CHRIST. 

overwhelm  him  in  the  participation  of  my  shame  and  guilt.  He 
may  merely  succeed  in  destroying  himself,  by  involving  him- 
self in  the  responsibility  of  my  offence.  But  Christ,  having 
life  in  himself,  has  power  to  lay  down  his  own  life,  and  has 
power  to  take  it  again.  When  I  cleave  to  him,  a  wretched 
perishing  sinner,  the  billows  of  wTath  go  over  his  head,  and  he 
tastes  the  death  to  which  I  am  doomed.  But  nevertheless  he 
lives  still,  he  rises  from  the  midst  of  the  waves,  he  walks  on 
the  waters  once  more,  and  I,  grasping  his  outstretched  hand, 
— nay,  rather  grasped  by  him  in  his  strong  arm, — am  forth- 
with in  safety,  with  him,  on  the  shore.  He  makes  himself 
indeed  answerable  for  my  sin  ;  and  for  any  man,  or  angel,  for 
any  creature,  however  high,  or  however  holy,  to  do  this,  could 
not  but  entail  on  him  everlasting  destruction,  eternal  death. 
But  he  is  no  creature.  He  is  the  ever-Kving  Son,  righteous 
and  holy.  And  the  burden  which  must  have  weighed  down 
any  other  substitute  or  surety  to  hell,  and  that  for  ever,  he 
can  sustain  and  yet  live.  What  a  privilege,  then,  to  have  my 
Hfe  with  him  ! 

And  may  this  indeed  be  my  privilege  ?  asks  some  poor 
trembling  soul.  Wherefore  should  it  not  ?  On  what  terms 
is  it  to  become  yours  1  In  what  character  are  you  to  appro- 
priate it  1  In  the  character  simply  and  exclusively  of  one 
dead.  For  what  do  you  read  as  your  warrant  ?  "  Ye  are 
dead,  and  your  life  is  with  Christ."  To  be  dead  is  the 
only  requisite  preliminary  to  your  life  being  with  Christ. 
And  is  not  this  your  case  1  Are  you  not  dead,  as  an  enemy 
to  God,  righteously  condemned  by  hiin  1  Then  rejoice  to 
know  and  believe  that  your  life  is  with  Christ.  Ah  !  do 
you  still  hesitate  1  Are  you  waiting  anxiously  and  impatiently 
until  you  find  in  you  some  symptom  of  a  new-born  spiritual 
life  before  you  lay  hold  of  Christ,  or  let  him  lay  hold  of  you ! 
Nay,  nay,  have  done  with  this  longing  after  a  righteousness 
or  life  of  your  own.     You  feel  that  you  have  none.     Be  con- 


DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH   CHRIST.  77 

tent  that  you  sliould  have  none.  Eemeniber  that  it  is  not  as 
one  living,  but  as  one  dead,  that  you  have  your  life  in 
Christ.  Yes,  there  is  life  in  him  for  you,  even  for  you  who 
are  dead.  "  "When  I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong."  "When  I 
am  dead,  then  I  live. 

(2.)  As  you  live  with  Christ,  in  respect  of  your  new  right 
to  live,  so  you  live  with  Christ  in  respect  of  the  new  spirit 
of  your  life.  For  not  only  must  you  who  are  dead  receive  a 
title  to  Hve.  You  must  besides  receive  power  to  take  advan- 
tage of  your  title,  to  avail  yourselves  of  it,  and  actually  to 
live.  And  for  both  alike  you  must  be  indebted  to  Christ. 
Your  right  to  live,  and  your  power  to  hve,  are  both  with 
Christ.  Your  right  to  live  is  with  him,  as  having  life  in 
himself.  Your  power  to  live  is  with  him,  as  quickening 
whom  he  will.  He  has  the  residue  of  the  Spirit.  The  Holy 
Ghost  is  given  through  him,  in  respect  of  that  very  right- 
eousness of  his  through  Avhich  he  liveth,  as  just,  and  justifying 
many.  If  you  would  have  this  life,  then,  have  it  with  Christ, 
with  him  altogether,  and  with  him  alone.  He  alone  has  it 
in  himself,  and  he  alone  can  make  it  yours. 

And  still,  once  more,  remember,  it  is  as  those  who  are 
dead,  that  you  have  this  life  with  Christ,  this  right  and 
this  power  to  live.  Say  not,  then,  that  you  cannot  live  ;  that 
you  have  not  life  enough  even  to  lay  hold  of  the  life  which 
is  with  Christ  for  you.  I^either  the  right  to  live,  nor  tlie 
power,  is  with  you.  Both  are  with  Christ.  "  When  we 
were  yet  without  strength,  in  due  time  Christ  died  for  the 
ungodly  "  (Eom.  v.  6).  "While  ye  are  yet  without  strength, 
you  are  raised  from  death  to  life,  by  the  mighty  working  of 
the  same  power  which  brought  Christ  again  from  the  grave. 
"  Awake,  then,  thou  that  sleepest,  and  arise  from  the  dead, 
and  Christ  shall  give  thee  light"  (Eph.  v.  14).  Say  not  that 
you  cannot  comply  Avith  this  invitation,  or  accept  this  offer. 
He  who  calls  you  is  the  same  who  commanded  the  sick  man 


78  DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH  CHRIST. 

to  rise  and  walk,  who  said  to  the  dead  man  in  his  tomb, 
"  Lazarus,  come  forth."  You  are  dead.  But  your  life  is  with 
Christ.  His  very  word  to  you,  when  he  says.  Believe  and 
live,  is  itself  life  ;  and  dead  as  you  are,  he  makes  you  hear 
his  voice.  And  in  hearing  it,  you  have  power  to  obey  his 
call,  to  embrace  the  Saviour,  and  to  be  saved. 

2.  Further,  this  your  life,  being  with  Christ,  must  be 
where  he  is.  It  must  therefore  be  in  God.  He  is  your  life. 
And  where  he  is,  there  is  your  life.  But  he  is  in  the  bosom 
of  the  Father.  Thence  he  came  to  accomj)lish  the  purposes 
of  humiliation.  Thither  he  returned  when  these  purposes 
were  fulfilled,  when  the  Father's  holy  name  was  glorified,  and 
the  Father's  work  of  redeeming  mercy  finished.  Your  life 
with  Christ,  therefore,  is  in  God.  For  in  his  favour  is  life, 
and  his  loving-kindness  is  better  than  life. 

It  is  in  God  as  its  source  and  fountain.  For  all  life, 
especially  all  spiritual  life,  is  from  the  Father.  "As  the 
Father  hath  life  in  himself,  so  hath  he  given  to  the  Son  to 
have  life  in  himself"  (John  v.  26).  The  Father  raised  him 
from  the  dead.  He  "  brought  again  from  the  dead  our  Lord 
Jesus,  that  great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep,  through  the  blood  of 
the  everlasting  covenant"  (Heb.  xiii.  20).  It  is  true  that 
Christ  had  power  to  lay  down  his  life,  and  he  had  power  to 
take  it  again ;  and  his  own  divine  power  was  manifested  in 
his  resurrection,  by  which  he  was  declared  to  be  the  Son  of 
God  with  power.  It  is  true  also  that  the  Eternal  Spirit,  the 
Spirit  of  holiness,  was  the  immediate  agent  in  this  transaction. 
Still,  the  Kfe  which  Christ  condescended,  as  the  risen  Saviour, 
to  receive  on  your  behalf  was  from  the  Father,  as  its  fountain. 
It  had  its  source  in  the  Father.  And  so  also  your  life,  with 
Christ,  is  in  God,  as  its  source.  It  is  God  that  justifieth.  It 
is  he  who  reconciles  you  to  himself.  The  grace,  the  favour, 
the  love,  the  free  forgiveness  and  full  acceptance,  in  which 
this  life  consists,  all  flow  from  the  Father ;  they  are  all  his 


DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH  CHRIST.  79 

gifts  to  you,  and  for  them  all,  you  are  continually,  at  every 
instant,  dependent  upon  him. 

And  as  your  life  with  Christ  is  in  God  as  its  source 
and  fountain,  so  it  is  in  God  also,  as  its  seat  and  centre  and 
home.  The  life  which  the  Father  imparts  finds  its  dwelling- 
place  in  himself.  It  consists  in  his  favour,  and  it  is  exercised 
in  his  fellowship.  The  love,  flowing  from  him,  returns  and 
rests  in  him.  We  love  him  who  first  loved  us.  "  Return  unto 
thy  rest,  0  my  soul,  for  the  Lord  hath  dealt  bountifully  with 
thee"  (Psalm  cxvi.  7).  "Being  justified  by  faith,  we  have 
peace  with  God,  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ "  (Eom.  v.  1). 

Again,  your   life  with  Christ    is    in  God,  as   its    model, 
or  type,  or  pattern.    "  God  is  love ;  and  he  that  dwelleth  in 
love  dwelleth  in  God,  and  God  in  him"  (1st  John  iv.  16). 
Eeholding  his  glory,  we  are  changed  into  the  same  image. 
Living  in  God,  we  are  conformed  to  his  likeness.     "  He  that 
loveth  not,  knoweth  not  God,  for  God  is  love"(/&.  iv.  8).  So,  on 
the  other  hand,  your  life  with  Christ  being  in  God,  you  know 
God,  and  dwell  in  him.     And,  kno-\ving  him,  you  love.     It 
becomes  your  very  nature  to  love,  even  as  it  is  his  nature  to 
love.    Dwelling   in   him,  you   dwell   in   love ;  loving  him 
because  he  first  loved  you,  and  for  his  sake  loving  your  brother 
also.    And  your  love  in  a  measure  is  like  that  of  God  himself; 
pure,  holy,  disinterested,  free,  as  his  is;  self-sacrificing,  too, 
and  self-denying ;    being  that  love  which   "  suffercth  long, 
and  is  kind  ;  which  envieth  not  ;  which  vaunteth  not  itself, 
is  not  puffed  up,  doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly,  seeketh  not 
her  own,  is  not  easily  provoked,  thinketh  no  evil,  rejoiceth  not 
in  iniquity,  but  rejoiceth  in  the  truth ;  beareth  all  things, 
believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  endureth  all  things" 
(1  Cor.  xiii.  4-7).     Thus  imbibing  his  own  spirit  of  love, 
and  being  kind  even  to  the  evil  and  to  the  unthankful,  ye 
are  the  children  of  your  heavenly  Father,  and  are  perfect, 
even  as  he  is  perfect. 


80  DEATH  AND. LIFE  WITH  CHRIST. 

Once  more,  your  life  with  Christ  is  in  God,  as  its 
great  end  and  aim — its  motive  and  object.  It  is  to  him  now 
that  yon  live,  for  his  glory,  for  his  will,  for  his  pleasure. 
Believing  in  Jesus,  you  are  to  the  praise  of  his  glory,  to 
whose  grave  you  are  debtors.  And  your  main  concern  now 
is,  that  God  may  be  glorified  in  you  still.  This  indeed  is 
your  very  life,  to  glorify  God.  You  live,  then,  only  when  you 
are  seeking,  desiring,  longing  for  the  advancement  of  his 
glory,  and  are  willing  that  in  you  he  should  be  glorified, 
whether  by  life  or  by  death.  Such  is  your  life  in  God,  if  it  be 
life  in  Christ.  For  such  was,  and  such  is,  his  life  in  the 
Father. 

3.  Finally,  this  life  with  Christ  in  God  is  hid.  It  must 
needs  be  so,  since  it  enters  in  within  the  veil.  There  is,  of 
course,  a  sense  in  which  it  is  not,  and  cannot  be  hid.  Its 
fruits  and  symptoms  are  manifest.  But  its  principle  is  hid. 
For  as  the  movements  of  the  living  body  are  sensible  and 
palpable,  while  the  mystery  of  that  unseen  vital  energy  which 
sets  the  head  and  the  heart  in  motion,  baffles  all  inquiry  : 
so  while  the  outward  walk  is  patent  to  all  on  earth,  the  life 
of  the  soul  with  Christ  is  hid  in  God  in  heaven.  Your  life 
is  hid.  It  is  an  affecting  characteristic  of  this  life  that  it  is 
hidden.  It  suggests  several  touching  ideas  of  security,  of 
spirituality,  of  privacy,  and  of  seclusion. 

Your  life  is  hid,  for  security.  It  is  hid  with  Christ, 
in  God,  where  no  coarse  eye  can  reach,  and  no  rude  hand 
can  touch  it.  It  is  hid  from  the  storm  and  the  tempest.  It 
is  hid  from  the  relentless  accuser  of  the  brethren.  It 
is  hid  from  the  secret  counsel  of  the  wicked  and  the  strife  of 
tongues.  It  is  hid  from  the  unwise  and  flattering  friend.  It 
is  hid  from  the  spoiler  and  the  foe.  It  is  hid  in  God's 
pavilion,  in  the  secret  of  his  tabernacle,  in  the  hollow  of  his 
hand,  where  your  name  is  engraven  on  his  palms.  It  is 
not  hidden  so  that  it  can  ever  be  overlooked  or  forgotten  by 


DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH  CHRIST.  81 

him.  But  it  is  hidden  so  that  sin  and  Satan  and  the  world 
seek  in  vain  to  come  nigh  to  it. 

What  blessed  confidence  may  this  impart  even  to  you 
whose  life  may  seem  to  be  but  as  a  quivering  spark.  Feeble, 
flickering,  unsteady  as  it  may  be,  such  as  the  slightest 
breath  might  extinguish,  God  takes  it  into  his  keeping, 
hides  it,  cherishes  and  fosters  it,  until  it  be  revived.  Have 
you  life  at  all  with  Christ,  be  it  ever  so  precarious,  as  if 
scarce  a  pulse  were  beating  1 — Is  there  but  the  faintest  sigh, 
the  quivering  of  but  a  limb,  to  show  that  the  weary  and 
wounded  soldier  on  Satan's  dreary  battle-field  is  not  quite 
dead  1  Left  to  languish  on  the  plain,  with  the  keen  and 
cutting  night  breeze  chilling  his  stagnant  blood,  and  the 
feet  of  many  a  charger  trampling  him  in  the  dust,  and  the 
swords  of  hostile  bands  flashing  over  liim — how  soon  would 
the  spark  of  life  be  extinct !  But  your  life  is  not  liable  to 
such  exposure,  fallen  and  sore  stricken  as  you  are.  It  is  hid 
with  Christ  in  God.  You  are  his  hidden  ones  ;  safe  in  the 
hollow  of  the  rock  in  which  he  shelters  you,  safe  under  the 
shadow  of  his  wings.  Your  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God. 
It  stands  not  in  the  opinion  of  men,  who,  judging  according 
to  the  outward  appearance,  may  condemn  those  whom  God 
hath  justified.  It  depends  not  upon  your  being  able  to  meet 
Satan's  charges,  or  even  your  own  accusations  of  yourselves. 
It  is  not  in  human  apjDrobation,  or  in  a  tampering  with 
Satan's  soothing  wiles,  or  in  the  complacency  of  a  formal 
self-righteousness,  that  now  you  live.  As  to  all  these,  you 
are  dead ;  with  them  all  you  can  now  dispense.  For  your 
life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God,  where  he  will  care  for  it  well, 
if  only  you  leave  it  entirely  to  him. 

Your  life  is  hid,  as  a  life  that  is  no  longer  carnal  and 
earthly,  but  spiritual  and  heavenly.  It  is  not  an  outward 
life  of  profession  merely,  or  of  ceremonial  observances.  It  is 
life  in   the  hidden  man  of  the  heart,  life  itself   hid   with 

G 


82  DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH  CHKIST. 

Christ  in  God.  Hence  it  is  altogether  independent  of  what 
the  apostle  calls  the  rudiments  of  this  world.  It  is  quite  in- 
consistent with  subjection  to  ordinances  (ii.  20) ;  you  need 
not  now  concern  yourselves  about  such  a  life,  or  such  a  notion 
of  life,  as  these  could  sustain.  You  are  no  more  striving  to 
make  good  a  poor  and  precarious  life  for  yourselves,  based  upon 
any  such  outward  and  formal  righteousness.  As  to  any 
such  life,  or  any  such  title  to  life,  you  are  dead.  And  you 
are  contented  and  thankful  to  be  dead  ;  your  life  now  is  inward 
and  spiritual.  It  is  a  real  life  of  inward  and  conscious  re- 
conciliation to  God  ;  inward  and  conscious  walking  with 
God.     It  is  life  in  God  ;  life  therefore  hid  in  God, 

Hence  it  is  a  life  of  intimacy  ;  and  as  it  were  of  con- 
fidential fellowship.  You  are  the  men  of  God's  secret  (Job 
xix.  19).  You  are  his  friends,  to  whom  he  makes  known 
what  he  does.  "  The  secret  of  the  Lord  is  with  them  that 
fear  him,  and  he  will  shew  them  his  covenant"  (Ps.  xxv.  14). 
"  His  secret  is  with  the  righteous"  (Prov.  iii.  32).  To  men 
generally  it  is  only  the  outward  aspect  of  the  works  and  ways 
of  God  which  is  revealed ;  and  that  they  are  at  a  loss  to 
understand.  In  the  things  he  has  made,  they  see  little  more 
than  what  furnishes  matter  for  vacant  wonder  or  curious 
speculation.  And  in  his  providential  dealings  how  much  is 
there  that  is  dark !  "  How  unsearchable  are  his  judgments,  and 
his  ways  past  finding  out  I"  How  hard  a  thing  do  the  un- 
godly and  the  worldly  find  it  to  be  even  to  imagine  an 
explanation  of  his  procedure,  to  conjecture  what  may  possibly 
be  the  meaning  of  his  actings.  To  them  the  whole  is  a 
mighty  maze,  without  a  jjlan.  Things  good  and  evil,  plea- 
sant and  painful,  terrible  and  joyful,  are  mingled  and  jumbled 
together  in  inextricable  confusion.  What  can  they  do  but 
live  at  random,  and  as  if  by  chance ;  receiving  whatever  comes 
as  best  they  may ;  letting  the  world  pass,  and  taking  things  as 
easily  as  they  can  1 


DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH  CHEIST.  83 

But  if  your  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God,  you  stand  in 
his  counsel.  You  are  in  his  secret,  as  it  were,  behind  the 
scenes.  You  have  the  key  to  all  the  mysteries  of  his  govern- 
ment. To  you  now  all  is  not  a  chaos  or  a  blank,  a  confused 
pageant  or  a  troubled  dream.  You  are,  as  it  were,  admitted 
into  God's  chamber ;  you  have  an  insight  into  his  plan  and 
purpose  as  the  God  of  grace  and  of  judgment.  The  present 
chequered  scene  is  no  longer  a  mere  enigma  to  you.  You 
know  what  it  means,  God's  long-suflferuig  patience  with  the 
wicked,  whom  he  would  fain  win  to  himself ;  his  dispensations 
of  fatherly  love  towards  his  own  people,  whom  he  corrects 
and  chastens ;  his  warnings  of  wrath ;  his  tokens  for  good  ; 
the  benefits  with  which  he  loads  his  enemies  ;  the  trials  with 
which  he  visits  his  children ;  the  whole  scheme  of  his 
administration ;  however  incomprehensible  to  others,  is  not 
now  all  dark  and  hard  to  you.  Hence  you  can  stand  serene 
in  life's  shifting  vicissitudes  and  death's  dread  terrors  ;  amid 
the  war  of  elements  and  the  crash  of  worlds.  You  know  that 
all  is  well ;  that  all  the  Lord's  ways  are  just  and  true.  You 
are  not  apt  to  be  taken  by  surprise.  •  It  is  yours  to  see,  in  the 
ceaseless  march  of  all  things  here  below,  the  unfolding  of  the 
plan  of  redeeming  love.  And  in  the  very  dissolution  of 
universal  nature,  you  can  hail  the  advent  of  the  new  heavens 
and  the  new  earth. 

Once  more,  your  life  with  Christ  in  God  is  hid,  as  being  a 
life  of  seclusion  from  the  world's  eye,  and  separation  from  the 
world's  sympathy.  The  world  cannot  discern  or  appreciate  it. 
They  cannot  believe  in  its  realit}^  They  have  no  apprehension 
of  its  spirit.  Yes ;  you  have  a  rank  that  is  concealed  from 
the  carnal  mind.  "  Behold  what  manner  of  love  the  Father 
hath  bestowed  on  us,  that  we  should  be  called  the  sons  of 
God ;  therefore  the  world  knoweth  us  not,  because  it  knew 
him  not"  (1  John  iii.  1).  You  have  riches  of  which  the 
world  cannot  conceive,   the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ. 


84  DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH  CHRIST. 

The  pearl  of  great  price  is  yours,  though  none  but  you 
recognise  it.  You  carefully  hide  and  keep  it.  Almost  all 
things  about  your  life  are  hidden.  It  has  its  hidden  source 
and  spring  ;  Christ  living  in  you  ;  Christ  in  you  the  hope  of 
glory.  It  has  its  hidden  motive,  for  which  the  world,  will 
give  you  no  credit ;  to  you  to  live  is  Christ.  It  has  its  hidden 
food ;  you  have  meat  to  eat  that  the  world  knoweth  not  of ; 
the  hidden  manna  ;  the  Avord  of  Christ  dwelling  in  you  richly. 
It  has  its  hidden  joys,  and.  its  hidden  sorrows  too,  with  which 
a  stranger  may  not  intermeddle  ;  its  hidden  history  and 
exercise  of  soul  in  the  privacy  of  your  secret  closet ;  in  deep 
experiences  of  the  heart,  known  only  to  your  Father  and 
your  God. 

But  though  your  life,  as  believers,  is  hid,  its  outward 
workings  and  movements,  its  fruits  and  effects,  are  and 
must  be,  visible  and  palpable.  It  is  a  life  which  manifests 
itself.  The  natural  life  is  in  large  measure  hid.  Its  principle, 
its  manner  of  being,  its  sustenance,  growth,  decay,  revival, 
much  about  it  is  hid.  But  it  acts  outwardly  in  word  and 
deed,  in  speech  and  behaviour.  So  also  the  spiritual  life, 
however  hid  it  may  be  in  many  aspects  of  it,  must  come  out 
in  unmistakable  proofs  of  its  reality.  "  The  fruit  of  the 
Spirit  is  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  gentleness,  goodness, 
faith,  meekness,  temperance"  (Gal.  v.  22,  23).  "Add  to 
your  faith,  virtue  ;  and  to  virtue,  knowledge  ;  and  to  know- 
ledge, temperance  ;  and  to  temperance,  patience  ;  and  to 
patience,  godliness  ;  and  to  godliness,  brotherly  kindness ; 
and  to  brotherly  kindness,  charity"  (2  Peter  i.  5-7).  "Let 
your  light  so  shine  before  men,  that  they  may  see  your  good 
works,  and  glorify  your  Father  Avhich  is  in  heaven  "  (Matt.  v. 
16).  Out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  let  the  mouth  speak. 
From  within,  from  the  Spirit  in  you,  let  rivers  of  living 
waters  flow. 

Then  your  life  is  not  to   be  always  hidden.      "When 


DEATH  AND  LIFE  WITH  CHRIST.  85 

Clirist,  who  is  our  life,  shall  appear,  then  shall  ye  also  appear 
with  him  in  glory  "  (Col.  iii.  4).  Its  heiug  hidden  is,  in  one 
view,  an  advantage  meanwhile  to  this  life  ;  as  a  hiding-place 
from  the  tempest's  fury,  or  from  war's  alarm,  be  it  ever  so 
lonely  and  so  dreary,  is  welcome  to  the  traveller  or  the 
patriot.  "  Come,  my  people,  enter  thou  into  thy  chambers, 
and  sliut  thy  doors  about  thee ;  hide  thyself  as  it  were  for  a 
little  moment."  Yes  ;  for  a  little  moment.  But  only 
"  until  the  indignation  be  overpast "  (Isa.  xxvi.  20).  But 
the  traveller  rejoices  to  walk  abroad  when  the  blast  is  over. 
The  patriot  is  glad  when  persecution  yields  to  peace  ;  and  he 
is  free  to  quit  his  close  retreat.  For  it  is,  on  the  Avhole,  a 
drawback  on  the  enjoyment  of  this  life  with  Christ  in  God 
that  it  is  hid.  The  believer  often  feels  the  lack  of  sympathy, 
and  the  pain  of  being  misinterpreted  and  misunderstood. 
He  looks  forward  to  the  day  when  clouds  and  shadows  shall 
flee  away,  and  all  shall  be  open  fellowship  and  joy. 

Finally,  for  unbelievers  as  well  as  beHevers,  for  all  of  us 
alike,  it  is  a  solemn  question — What  is  j^our  hidden  life'/ 
For  every  man  has  a  hidden  life  ;  a  life  that  he  lives  apart 
from  even  his  dearest  bosom  friend  ;  a  life  that  he  lives  alone  ; 
in  his  lonely  musings  ;  in  his  solitary  closet ;  in  the  deep  re- 
cesses of  his  inmost  heart.  What,  0  my  brother  !  is  your 
hidden  life,  your  real  life  ?  For  your  hidden  life  is  your 
real  life.  Your  life  outwardly,  before  men ;  in  the  sight  of 
the  world  and  the  church;  may  be  all  that  could  well  be  desired. 
But  what  of  your  inner  hidden  life  ;  j- our  real  life,  I  repeat  1 
Is  it  life  with  Christ  in  God,  the  life  of  love  1  Be  very 
sure  that,  whatever  it  is,  the  day  will  declare  it.  *'  For  there 
is  nothing  covered  that  shall  not  be  revealed  ;  neither  hid, 
that  shall  not  be  known  "  (Luke  xii,  2). 


86  ISAIAH'S  VISIOX. 


ISAIAH'S  VISION. 

' '  In  the  year  that  king  Uzziah  died  I  sa-n-  also  the  Lord  sitting  upon  a 
throne,  high  and  lifted  up,  and  his  train  filled  the  temple.  Above 
it  stood  the  seraphims  :  each  one  had  six  wings  ;  with  twain  he 
covered  his  face,  and  with  twain  he  covered  his  feet,  and  with 
twain  he  did  fly.  And  one  cried  unto  another,  and  said.  Holy, 
holy,  holy,  is  the  Lord  of  hosts  :  the  whole  earth  is  full  of  his  glory. 
And  the  posts  of  the  door  moved  at  the  voice  of  him  that  cried, 
and  the  house  was  filled  with  smoke.  Then  said  I,  Woe  is  me  !  for 
I  am  undone  ;  because  I  am  a  man  of  unclean  lips,  and  I  dwell  in 
the  midst  of  a  people  of  unclean  lips:  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  the 
King,  the  Lord  of  hosts.  Then  flew  one  of  the  seraphims  unto  me, 
having  a  live  coal  in  his  hand,  which  he  had  taken  with  the  tongs 
from  off  the  altar  :  and  he  laid  it  upon  my  mouth,  and  said,  Lo, 
this  hath  touched  thy  lips  ;  and  thine  inicLuity  is  taken  away,  and 
thy  sin  purged.  Also  I  heard  the  voice  of  the  Lord,  sajnng, 
"Whom  shall  I  send,  and  who  will  go  for  us  ?  Then  said  I,  Here 
am  1  ;  send  me." — Is.a.iah  vi.  1-8. 

I  DO  not  intend  to  consider  this  chapter  historically,  or  bio- 
graphicaUy,  or  exegetically,  I  do  not  inquire  into  the  signi- 
ficancy  of  the  date  assigned  to  this  ecstatic  rapture  or  vision 
which  it  records ;  although  the  place  it  occupies  in  the  course 
of  the  Lord's  dealings  with  his  people  may  and  must  have 
some  meaning.  jSTor  do  I  raise  any  question  about  its  place 
in  the  prophet's  own  life  ;  as  for  instance,  whether  what  he 
describes  was  his  preparation  for  his  prophetic  mission  gone- 
rally,  or  his  preparation  for  some  one  special  prophetic  mes- 


ISAIAH'S  VISION.  87 

sage.  And  I  abstain  from  any  critical  examination  of  the 
passage.  I  wish  to  deal  with  it  practically,  as  indicating  what 
must  be  the  common  experience  of  every  servant  of  the  Lord, 
be  he  a  minister  in  his  church  or  an  ordinary  member,  if  he 
is  to  be  truly  fitted  for  undertaking  any  work  for  the  Lord  ; 
and  if  he  is  to  be  welcomed  when  he  offers  to  undertake  it. 

Of  course,  I  approach  this  chapter,  with   tliis  practical 
view,   under   the  guidance   of  the   apostle  John.      In   the 
twelfth  chapter  of  his  Gospel,  summing  up  in  dark  enough 
colours   the   general  issue  of  the  Lord's   ministry  Avitli  re- 
spect to  the  Jews  as  a  people,  John  explains  that  seeming 
anomaly,  the  ill-success  of  such  a  preacher,  by  a  reference 
to  what  had  been  foretold  in  prophecy  ;  especially  in  the  pro- 
phecy of  Isaiah.     He  quotes  two  passages.     "  But  though  he 
had  done  many  miracles  before  them,  yet  they  believed  not  on 
him  :  that  the  saying  of  Esaias  the  prophet  might  be  fulfilled, 
which  he  spake,  Lord,  who  hath  believed  our  report  1  and  to 
w'hom  hath  the  arm  of  the  Lord  been  revealed  1    Therefore 
they  could  not  believe,  because  that  Esaias  said  again,  He  hath 
blinded  their  eyes,  and  hardened  their  heart ;  that  they  should 
not  see  with  their  eyes,  nor  understand  with  their  heart,  and 
be  converted,  and  I  should   heal  them"  (John  xii.  37-40). 
And  with  reference  to  the  last  passage,  quoted  from  this  sixth 
chapter  of  Isaiah,  to  connect  it  more  closely  with  the  question 
on  hand,  John  adds  :  "  These  things  said  Esaias,  when  he  saw 
his  glory,  and  spake  of  him"  (ver.  41).     It  was  Christ's  glory 
therefore  that  Isaiah  saw.     It  was  of  Christ  that  he  spoke. 
The  scene  is  Messianic.     Christ  is  in  it.     And,  as  I  hope  to 
show,  Christ  is  in  it  all  through. 

He  is  in  it,  in  the  sight  which  the  prophet  gets  of  the 
Lord ;  God  in  Christ  glorious  in  holiness.  He  is  in  it,  in  the 
the  altar  of  atonement  and  the  live  coals  of  the  ever-fresh 
sacrifice  of  himself  thereon.  He  is  in  it,  in  the  instantaneous 
efficacy  of  one  of  the  live  coals  from  off  the  altar,  applied  by  a 


88  ISAIAH'S  VISION. 

divine  agency  to  tlie  prophet's  person,  to  cleanse  him  from 
all  his  guilt,  and  give  him  courage  before  the  Lord.  This 
Messianic  character  of  the  vision  or  ecstasy  wiU  appear  more 
clearly  if  we  consider  : 

I.  "What  Isaiah  saw  and  heard  (vers.  1-4). 
II.  How  Isaiah  felt  (ver.  5). 

III.  How  his  case  was  met  (ver.  6). 

IV.  The  subsequent  offer  and  command  (vers.  7,  8). 

I.  What  the  prophet  saw  (vers.  1-4).  There  is  no  special 
stress  to  be  laid  on  the  term  Lord,  as  used  here.  It  is  not 
the  incommunicable  name  of  essence,  Jehovah  ;  but  the  title 
of  dominion,  of  mastership  and  ownership,  Lord.  It  is 
Jehovah  who  is  seen  ;  but  he  is  seen  as  ruler,  governor,  king. 
The  awe  of  his  appearance  is  in  the  circumstances  or  sur- 
roundings. 

He  is  upon  a  throne,  high  and  lifted  up.  It  is  the 
throne  of  absolute  sovereignty  ;  of  resistless,  questionless, 
supremacy  over  all.  The  Lord  reigneth  ;  thy  throne,  0  God, 
is  for  ever  and  ever. 

He  is  in  the  temple,  where  the  throne  is  the  mercy- 
seat,  between  the  Cherubim  ;  over  the  ark  of  the  covenant, 
which  is  the  symbol  and  seal  of  reconciliation  and  friendly 
communion.  And  he  is  there  in  such  rich  grace  and  glory 
that  the  whole  temple  is  filled  with  the  overflowing  robe  of 
his  redeeming  majesty.  His  train,  the  skirts  of  his  won- 
drous garment  of  light  and  love,  filled  the  temple. 

Above,  or  upon,  that  ample  overflowing  train  of  so 
magnificent  a  raiment  stood  the  Seraphim.  These  are  not,  as 
I  take  it,  angelic  or  superangelic  spirits,  but  the  Divine 
Spirit  himself,  the  Holy  Ghost ;  appearing  thus  in  the  aspect 
and  attitude  of  gracious  ministry.  In  that  attitude  he 
multiplies  himself,  as  it  were,  according  to  the  number  and 
exigencies  of  the  churches  and  the  individuals  to  whom  he 


ISAIAH'S  VISION.  89 

has  to  minister.  He  takes  up,  moreover,  the  position  of 
reverential  waiting  for  his  errand,  and  in  an  agency  manifold, 
but  yet  one,  readiness  to  fly  to  its  execution.  For  the 
ecclesiastical  fancy  or  figment  of  Seraphim  and  Cherubim,  as 
constituting  a  sort  of  hierarchy  or  prelacy  in  the  heavenly 
hosts,  may  surely  be  regarded  as  now  exploded.  The  Cheru- 
bim are  on  almost  all  hands  admitted  to  be  representative  em- 
blems of  redeemed  creation,  or  of  the  redeemed  church  on  the 
earth.  And  I  cannot  think  it  wrong  to  give  to  the  Seraphim, 
in  this,  the  only  passage  in  which  the  name  occurs,  a  some- 
what corresponding  character,  as  representative  emblems  of 
the  active  heavenly  agency  in  redemption.  Nor  is  the  plural 
form  any  objection. 

I  find,  as  I  think,  a  similar  mode  of  setting  forth  the 
multiform  and  multifarious  agency  of  the  Spirit  in  the 
opening  salutation  of  the  Apocalypse.  "  John  to  the  seven 
churches  which  are  in  Asia  :  Grace  be  unto  you,  and  peace, 
from  him  which  is,  and  which  was,  and  which  is  to  come ; 
and  from  the  seven  Spirits  which  are  before  his  throne  ;  and 
from  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  the  faithful  Witness,  and  the  first- 
begotten  of  the  dead,  and  the  Prince  of  the  kings  of  the 
earth "  (Eev.  i.  4,  5).  John  invokes  the  blessings  of  grace 
and  peace  upon  the  seven  churches  he  is  addressing.  He 
does  so  in  the  usual  apostolic  manner.  He  brings  in  the 
three  persons  of  the  Godhead ;  the  Father  first,  "  from  him 
which  is,  and  which  was,  and  which  is  to  come  ;"  the  Son 
last,  "  from  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  the  faithful  Witness,  and 
the  first-begotten  of  the  dead,  and  the  Prince  of  the  kings  of 
the  earth  ;  "  and  between  the  two,  "  the  seven  Sj^irits  which 
are  before  the  Father's  throne."  It  is  the  Holy  Ghost,  wait- 
ing to  go  forth  from  the  Father,  to  apply  and  carry  forward 
the  threefold  work  of  the  Son,  as  prophet,  priest,  and  king  ; 
and  to  do  so  as  if  he  were  becoming  seven  Spirits  in  accom- 
modation to  the  seven  churches  ;   as  if  each  church  was  to 


90  ISAIAH'S  VISION. 

have  him  as  his  own  ;  yes,  and  each  behever  too.  So  the 
Holy  Spirit  appears  to  Isaiah  in  this  seraphic  host ;  many, 
but  yet  one  ;  one,  in  the  uniformity  of  the  threefold  posture  ; 
the  veiled  face  towards  the  glorious  throne  ;  the  veiled  feet 
upon  the  gracious  train  ;  the  unveiled  wings  left  ready  for 
flight  anywhere  and  on  any  mission. 

With  this  great  sight  voice  and  movement  are  joined. 
There  is  a  voice.  "  And  one  cried  unto  another,  and  said, 
Holy,  holy,  holy  is  the  Lord  of  hosts  ;  the  whole  earth  is 
full  of  his  glory."  It  is  not  necessarily  the  voice  of  the 
Seraphim,  though  that  is  the  ordinary  view.  I  would  rather 
take  the  words  abstractly  and  indefinitely.  There  is  a  reci- 
procating, or,  as  it  were,  antiphonic  cry  or  song.  It  is  not  said 
among  whom.  Of  course  the  readiest  reference  is  to  the 
Seraphim.  But  the  text  does  not  require  that ;  it  is  literally 
"  this  cried  to  this  "  (inarginal  reading).  And  the  attend- 
ance of  an  angelic  quire,  of  all  hosts  of  heaven,  may  be 
assumed.  A  voice  of  adoring  awe  fills  the  august  temple 
with  the  echoing  sound  (ver.  3).  The  voice  occasions  com- 
motion, excitement,  shaken  door-posts,  the  smoke  of  the 
glorious  cloudy  fire  filling  all  the  house  (ver.  4). 

Assuredly  Christ  is  here.  He  is  here  as  revealing  the 
Father  ;  the  brightness  of  his  glory,  the  express  image  of  his 
person.  And  he  is  here,  not  merely  outwardly,  in  outward 
manifestation  ;  but  inwardly  ;  in  the  deepest  inward  contact 
and  converse  of  the  soul  with  God. 

I  am  carried  within  the  veil ;  within  the  veil  of  God's 
glory  as  declared  in  his  visible  works  ;  within  the  veil  of  my 
sensible  recognition  of  that  glory  ;  into  the  shrine,  far  back, 
beyond  either  veil ;  where,  face  to  face,  I  see,  where,  in  a  real 
personal  interview,  I  personally  meet  my  Lord ;  the  sovereign 
Lord  of  all ;  God  in  Christ ;  overflowing  in  redeeming  love  ; 
glorious  in  holiness  ;  filling  the  whole  earth  with  the  glory  of 
his  holiness. 


ISAIAH'S  VISION.  91 

II.  How  the  prophet  felt  (ver.  5).  It  is  a  thorough  prostra- 
tion. The  prophet,  the  seer  of  this  great  sight,  is  smitten 
down.  He  falls  on  his  face  as  one  dead.  He  cannot  stand 
that  Divine  presence  ;  that  living,  personal.  Divine  presence  ; 
abruptly  confronting  him  in  the  inmost  shrine  of  the  Lord's 
sanctuary,  and  the  sanctuary  of  his  own  heart.  What  the 
Lord  really  is,  thus  flashing  on  his  conscience,  shows  him 
what  he  is  himself.  Undone  !  unclean  !  Unclean  in  the 
very  sphere  and  line  of  living  in  which  I  ought  to  be  most 
scrupulously  clean ! 

The  lips ! — The  lips  which,  like  David  in  that  Psalm  of 
penitential  sorrow,  I  have  asked  thee,  0  Lord,  to  open  that 
my  mouth  may  show  forth  thy  praise  :  the  lips  which  I  have 
consecrated  as  a  sacrifice  to  thee ;  the  lips  which  should  keep 
knowledge  and  feed  many  ;  ah  !  how  unclean  !  And  how 
have  I  been  reconciling  myself  to  their  uncleanness  ;  and  to 
the  uncleanness  of  the  lips  of  the  people  among  whom  I 
dwell !  How  have  I  been  using  my  lips  among  them  !  How 
have  I  been  regarding  their  use  of  their  lips  among  them- 
selves !  They  say  that  their  lips  are  their  own.  Have  I  been 
tempted  to  acquiesce  in  their  saying  that  1  Ay,  and  even 
sometimes  to  say  it  myself.  In  my  intercourse  with  them, 
does  my  trumpet  give  an  uncertain  sound  ?  Is  my  speech,  or 
my  silent  and  tacit  influence,  accommodated  to  their  ideas  1 
Am  I  ceasing  to  tell  on  them  for  good  1  Are  they  beginning 
to  tell  on  me  for  evil  1  Do  I  dwell  among  them  without 
being  vexed  by  their  evil  conversation  1  Is  my  own  conversa- 
tion, my  way  of  thinking,  speaking,  acting,  taking,  almost  half 
unconsciously,  the  unspiritual,  ungodly,  frivolous,  and  worldly 
tone  of  theirs  1 

Ah  !  it  is  high  time  for  me  to  place  myself  where  Isaiah 
was,  and  to  prostrate  myself  as  Isaiah  did.  And  let  it  not  be 
as  if  this  uncleanness  of  my  own  lips  and  tolerance  of  the  un- 
cleanness of  the  lips  of  the  world  were  a  casual  infirmity, 


92  ISAIAH'S  VISION. 

an  outward  excrescence  upon  my  character  and  life.  Ah, 
no  !  It  is  myself ;  my  very  self !  I  am  a  man  of  unclean 
lips  !  The  unclean  lips  constitute  my  very  manhood,  my  very 
nature.  They  are  the  sign  and  index  of  what  I  am.  It  is 
not  that  I  have  them,  hanging  as  an  uncongenial  hurden 
around  me.  But  I  am  what  they  express.  They  proceed  out 
of  my  heart.  They  are  what  my  inner  man,  my  whole  inner 
man,  truly  is.  It  is  my  nature  that  I  feel  to  be  so  deeply, 
thoroughly,  hopelessly  vitiated.  Not  only  are  my  lips  unclean, 
I  am  myself  a  man  of  unclean  lips  !  That  is  my  very  nature. 
That  is  myself.  Myself  as  I  see  myself,  when  mine  eyes  see 
the  King,  the  Lord  of  Hosts. 

III.  How  the  prophet's  case  is  met.  He  is  within  the 
veil ;  in  the  holiest  sanctuary  ;  the  Holy  of  holies.  He  is  in 
the  immediate  presence  of  the  Holy  One  ;  shining  forth  from 
between  the  Cherubim,  over  the  mercy-seat,  in  the  full  glory 
of  his  sovereignty  and  grace ;  the  full-orbed  and  rounded 
glory  of  his  holiness.  And  he  is  there,  in  that  awful  pre- 
sence, not  as  a  prophet,  a  high  and  honoured  functionary, 
awaiting  the  instructions  of  his  royal  Master,  in  dignified  and 
reverential  state  ;  but  as  a  poor,  wretched  criminal,  help- 
lessly lost  and  ruined  ;  undone  ;  unclean. 

But  lo !  an  altar ;  the  altar ;  the  altar  of  poj)itiation 
and  atonement ;  on  which  lies  the  ever  freshly  bleeding 
victim ;  the  Lamb  of  God  that  taketli  away  the  sin  of  the 
world.  There,  full  in  his  view,  is  that  altar,  with  its  sacrifice  ; 
present  to  him  then,  though  future  ;  present,  I  thank  God, 
to  me,  though  past.  There  it  is ;  a  great  reality ;  a  great 
fact !  Yes  !  It  is  there  :  altogether  irrespectively  of  Isaiah's 
thoughts  and  feelings, — and  of  mine.  It  is  there,  apart  from 
me  ;  in  spite  of  me ;  a  fixed,  accomplished  fact ;  a  finished 
work  ;  a  real,  present  altar ;  a  real  present  sacrifice ;  accept- 
able to  God  and  available  for  me  !     That  where  I  am,  there 


ISAIAH'S   VISION.  93 

that  is,  tlaat  altar  with  that  sacrifice,  is  a  gleam  of  light  iu 
the  gloom.     It  is  something  to  see  the  Saviour  on  the  cross. 

But  of  what  avail  is  that  altar,  with  its  ever-burnintr 
fire  of  sacrificial  incense,  to  me  %  It  is  there,  where  I  am. 
That  is  something ;  it  is  much.  But  may  it  not  he  there, 
simply  as  near  to  God ;  accepted  of  God  %  And  here  am  I, 
alas  !  a  poor  sinner,  undone,  unclean  ;  forced  to  own  my  deep 
and  helpless  far-ofi"ness  from  God.  But  lo  !  thanks  to  ever- 
abounding  grace,  there  is  an  agency  at  work  that  brings 
the  great  and  ever  fresh  transaction  of  the  altar  freshly  home 
to  me.  One  of  the  Seraphim ;  the  Holy  Spirit  in  one  of  his 
indefinitely  varied  modes  of  operation,  suited  to  the  diversities 
of  churches  and  of  individuals ;  one  of  the  Seraphim ;  the 
Holy  Spirit  in  that  one  particular  adaptation  of  his  ministry 
which  specially  meets  my  case ;  flies,  as  if  in  haste ;  seeing 
that  I  am  fainting,  and  fearful  lest  I  die  ;  flies  on  the  wings 
ever  ready  for  such  flight ;  flies  with  what  is  as  good  as  the 
entire  altar  and  its  sacrifice,  to  apply  it  all  effectually  to  me  ; 
with  a  live  coal  in  his  hand  taken  with  tongs  from  off  the 
altar  he  flies  to  me.  And  knowing  my  sore  better  than  I 
know  it  myself,  not  wandering  vaguely  and  tentatively  over 
my  whole  frame,  but  fixing  at  once  on  the  seat  of  my  distress ; 
he  touches  my  lips  !  My  Hps  !  my  unclean  lips  !  the  very 
lips  whose  uncleanness  is  all  but  driving  me  to  despair.  The 
very  part  in  me,  the  special  sense  of  sin,  that  is  causing  me  to 
cry  out,  "  Woe  is  me !  0  wretched  man  that  I  am ! "  he  touches 
with  that  coal.  And  the  coal  not  dead  but  living.  It  is  a 
coal  from  off"  the  altar  whose  victim  ever  cries,  "  I  am  he  that 
liveth,  and  was  dead ;  and  behold  I  am  alive  for  evermore." 
With  a  living  coal  from  that  living  altar,  directly  and  imme- 
diately, the  blessed  Spirit  touches  me  at  the  very  point  of  my 
deepest  self- despair. 

And  the  effect  is  as  immediate  as  the  touch.  Nothing 
comes  in  between.     There  is  no  waiting,  as  for  a  medicine  to 


94  ISAIAH'S  VISION. 

work  its  cure ;  no  bargaining,  as  if  a  price  were  to  be  paid  ; 
no  process  to  be  gone  tbrough ;  no  preparation  to  be  made ; 
nothing  comes  in  between.  Enough  that  there  are,  on  the  one 
side,  the  unclean  lips,  and  on  the  other  the  live  coal  from  off 
the  altar.  To  the  one  let  the  other  be  applied,  graciously, 
effectually,  by  the  sevenfold,  myriad-fold,  agency  of  the  Spirit 
who  is  ever  before  the  throne  on  high.  The  prophet  asks 
nothing  more.  He  feels  the  warm  touch  of  the  live  coal  from 
off  the  altar.  He  hears  the  voice,  as  of  him  who  said,  "  Thy 
sins  be  forgiven  thee."  "  Lo,  this  has  touched  thy  lips,  and 
iniquity  is  taken  away  and  thy  sin  purged." 

Here  let  us  pause,  and  ask  grace  to  enable  us  to  realise 
this  experience  as  our  own. 

1.  Let  me  isolate  myself,  and  be  alone  with  God ;  alone 
with  him  within  the  veil.  Let  me  see  the  Lord,  not  mediately, 
through  his  works  and  ways  ;  no,  nor  by  means  and  signs  and 
sacraments ;  not  by  reasoning  and  reflection  inferring  him ; 
but  by  spiritual  insight  and  intuition  beholding  him ;  myself 
alone  beholding  him  alone  !  Let  me  be  brought  individually 
and  personally  face  to  face  with  him  in  the  inmost  shrine  of 
his  living  personaKty.  I  saw  the  Lord  !  Let  me  see  the 
Lord.  I  have  heard  of  him.  I  have  thoue;ht  about  him. 
But  let  me  see  him.  With  eye  opened  by  the  Spirit  let  me 
see  himself  Let  me  see  him  verily  and  indeed,  as  he  is  in 
himself  and  in  his  relation  to  me.  Let  his  own  beloved  Son 
show  him  to  me.  Let  him  show  to  me  the  Father !  His 
Father  and  my  Father  in  him ;  awful  and  uncompromising  in 
his  sovereignty  ;  overflowing  in  the  riches  of  his  grace  ;  holy, 
holy,  serenely  holy ;  terrible ;  glorious  in  holiness.  Let  it 
be  a  real  true  unveiling  of  him  on  the  one  part, — a  real  true 
seeing  of  him  on  the  other.  I  see  him  ;  "  I  have  heard  of  him 
with  the  hearing  of  the  ear ;  but  now  mine  eye  seeth  him. 
Therefore  I  abhor  myself,  and  repent  in  dust  and  ashes." 

2.  So  Job  was  smitten  down ;  emptied  of  all  the  right- 


Isaiah's  vision.  95 

eousness  he  pleaded  so  nobly,  against  his  gainsaying  friends, 
but  yet  too  unadvisedly  in  the  sight  of  his  God ;  prostrated 
before  the  one  only  righteous  and  holy  Lord  God.  So  Isaiah 
cried,  Woe  is  me,  for  I  am  undone.  So  let  me  be  smitten  ;  so 
let  me  cry,  blessed  Spirit ;  thou  thyself  opening  my  eyes  and 
causing  me  to  see  the  Lord  on  his  throne,  in  his  temple. 
Seeing  the  Lord  ;  sovereign  in  his  power  and  grace  ;  holy, 
inviolably  holy,  in  his  nature  and  in  all  his  relations  ;  seeing 
him,  not  afar  off ;  not  as  if  I  gazed  on  some  glimpse  of  his 
shining  garment  from  a  distance  and  among  a  crowd  ;  seeing 
him  very  near ;  with  a  real  true  vision,  making  him  a  real 
true  person  to  me, — and  oh  !  how  holy ! — holy  in  his  sove- 
reignty, holy  in  his  love  ! — oh,  how  holy  ! — what  can  I  do  ? 
what  can  I  say  1  Alone,  in  such  a  presence  !  Woe  is  me  ! 
Undone,  unclean  !  Unclean  all  over ;  out  and  out,  through 
and  through  unclean.  My  lips  unclean ;  and  all  that  they 
express  unclean ;  my  whole  inner  man  ;  my  entire  inward 
moral  and  spiritual  frame.  I  cannot  open  my  mouth  to  utter 
a  thought ;  I  cannot  think  a  thought  that  might  be  uttered 
in  words  ;  but  there  is  uncleanness  in  it ;  unholiness ;  ungod- 
liness ;  carnality  ;  selfishness  ;  worldliness.  Holy  Spirit  ! 
Spirit  of  holiness  !  Oh  !  make  me  feel  this  uncleanness  in  my 
lips,  as  indicating  my  thoughts,  but  too  congenial  to  the  un- 
cleanness of  the  lips  of  others.  Make  me  feel  this  confor- 
mity to  the  world  to  be  no  mere  accident  of  my  hfe,  but  my 
very  nature.  Let  me  see  God  as  he  is,  that  I  may  see  myself 
as  I  am.  Let  the  terrible  contrast  between  his  holiness  and 
my  uncleanness  sink  me  almost  in  the  very  gulf  of  despair, 
as  I  cry,  Woe  is  me  !  for  I  am  undone.  "  Then  said  I,  Woe  is 
me  !  for  I  am  undone  ;  because  I  am  a  man  of  unclean  lips, 
and  I  dwell  in  the  midst  of  a  people  of  unclean  lips  :  for  mine 
eyes  have  seen  the  King,  the  Lord  of  hosts "  (Isa.  vi.  5). 

3.  But  no.    It  need  not  be  despair.     Blessed  Spirit,  Spirit 
of  all  grace,  thou  hast  another  sight  to  unveil  to  me ;  another 


96  Isaiah's  vision. 

experience  for  me  to  undergo.  Thou  takest  of  what  is  Christ's, 
and  showest  it  to  me.  Thou  appliest  it  to  me.  Thou  makest 
Christ  mine.  I  see  his  glory  :  his  glory  as  it  shines  in  the 
lustre  of  that  throne  on  which  unhending  sovereignty,  rich 
redeeming  grace,  and  unsullied  holiness,  sit  enshrined  before 
my  wondering  eye,  all  harmonized  by  him.  I  see  also  his 
glory,  as  it  sheds  its  calm  sad  radiance  on  the  altar  on  svhicli 
he  lies,  the  bleeding  Lamb  of  God,  the  propitiation  for  my 
sin.  Yes  ;  I  see,  as  I  doubt  not  Isaiah  saw,  his  glory  in  tliat 
altar.  Blessed  Spirit !  let  it  be  so.  I  see  the  glory  of  his  cross. 
I  see  his  glory  as  Jehovah-Jesus  ;  Immanuel ;  God  with  us. 
I  see  his  glory  as  made  sin  and  made  a  curse  for  me.  I  see 
his  glory  as  loving  me,  and  giving  himself  for  me.  I  see  his 
glory,  as  it  is  ever  freshly  unfolded  to  me, — not  a  past,  but  an 
ever-present  glory.  Yes  3  it  is  a  present  glory  of  Christ 
that  I  see ;  present,  blessed  Spirit !  through  thy  gracious 
working.  Thou  makest  it  present  to  me.  For  I  do  not 
merely  gaze  on  a  past  transaction  in  that  altar,  of  terrible 
though  loving  significancy.  I  grasp  in  it  a  present  saving 
benefit.  I  not  only  behold  the  altar  ;  I  have  fellowshi]^  with 
it.  Thou,  0  blessed  Spirit !  makest  me  partaker  of  it.  Thou 
bringest  it  near  to  me.  Thou  touchest  me  with  it ;  the  sorest 
of  my  sores,  the  uncleanest  of  all  my  uncleannesses,  thou 
touchest  with  it  effectually. 

For  thus,  once  more,  I  see  the  glory  of  Christ  in  the  im- 
mediate cleansing  of  my  lips,  upon  their  being  touched  with  a 
live  coal  from  off  the  altar.  Here  especially  I  see  his  glor}^ ; 
the  glory  of  the  sovereign  and  instantaneous  virtue  of  the 
mere  touch,  on  lips  the  most  unclean,  of  a  live  coal  from  off 
the  altar.  For  surely  it  is  surpassingly  glorious  to  see,  to 
see  by  feeling  it,  how,  without  any  process  or  any  interval 
of  preparation,  the  fire  of  the  altar  has  but  to  come  in  contact 
with  my  deepest  stain  of  depravity  and  guilt ;  and  I  hear  the 
voice,  "  Lo,  this  hath  touched  thy  lips  ;  and  thine  iniquity  is 


ISAIAH'S  VISION.  97 

taken  away,  and  thy  sin  purged."  For,  indeed,  over  all  the 
seeings  of  Christ's  glory  here  indicated  this  is  paramount. 
This  is  the  crowning  sight  of  his  crowning  glory.  To  see  his 
glory,  as  investing  the  eternal  throne  with  a  new  halo  of 
sovereignty  and  grace  and  holiness,  blended  in  a  new  aspect 
of  mingled  majesty  and  mercy,  on  which  the  undone  and 
unclean  can  look  without  utter  ruin  ;  to  see  his  glory,  as  erect- 
ing and  setting  forth  an  altar,  on  which  there  is  ever  freshly 
flowing  the  blood  of  an  infinitely  meritorious  and  efiicacious 
sacrifice  for  sin ;  to  see  his  glory,  as  the  Holy  Sphit  takes  of 
what  is  his, — a  live  coal  from  off  the  altar, — and  shows  it  by 
applying  it  to  me ;  touching  the  worst  element  in  my  case,  with 
all  the  virtue  of  the  altar  whose  coal  he  uses  ; — all  that  is 
much.  But  more,  if  possible,  more  is  it  to  see  his  glory  in 
the  electric  word,  "  Lo,  tliis  hath  touched  thy  lips ;  and 
thine  iniquity  is  taken  away,  and  thy  sin  purged."  Ah  ! 
this  instantaneousness ;  this  instant  flash  from  the  two 
opposite  poles, — the  live  coal  from  off  the  altar  and  my  unclean 
lips, — issuing  at  once  in  perfect  peace,  and  perfect  willingness 
to  be  the  Lord's ; — is  not  this,  after  all,  the  chief  glory  of 
Christ  which  Isaiah  saw,  and  which  I,  in  the  Spirit,  see  as 
he  saw  ?  Oh  !  what  glory  may  I  see  in  Christ,  not  only  all 
through  his  manifestation  to  me  of  his  wondrous  grace, 
revealing  the  Father  in  his  full  perfection,  and  providing  for 
my  return  and  reconciliation ;  but  very  particularly,  in  my 
sense  and  experience  of  the  instantaneous  efficacy  of  one 
look  to  him,  one  touch  from  him,  to  set  me  free  from  all 
my  guilty  fear  and  bondage,  and  put  me  in  the  way  of 
rendering  a  free  and  filial  and  loyal  service  to  him  who  loved 
me  and  gave  himself  for  me. 


O" 


IV.  The  subsequent  offer  and  command — "Also  I  heard  the 
voice  of  the  Lord  saying.  Whom  shall  I  send,  and  who  will 
go  for  us  1     Then  said  I,  Here  am  I ;   send  me.     And  he 

H 


98  ISAIAH'S  VISION. 

said,  Go."  Two  things  are  noticeable  here  :  the  grace  of  God 
in  allowing  the  prophet,  thus  exercised,  to  be  a  volunteer  for 
service ;  and  the  unreservedness  of  the  prophet's  volunteering. 

1.  It  is  a  signal  instance  of  grace  on  the  part  of  the  Lord 
that  I  am  allowed  to  be  a  volunteer.  The  Lord  has  a  right, 
a  dearly  purchased  right,  to  deal  with  me  very  differently. 
He  might  issue  a  peremptory  command.  He  might  utter  his 
stern  voice  of  authority,  and  at  once  order  me.  But  he  knows 
what  is  in  man  better  than  to  treat  thus  the  broken  and 
relenting  heart  of  one  whom  he  has  smitten  by  the  brightness 
of  his  glorious  holiness  to  the  ground,  and  healed  by  the  touch 
of  his  ever-living  sacrifice  of  blood.  He  is  considerate.  He 
is  generous.  His  servant  is  not  coerced  or  constrained,  as 
with  bit  and  bridle.  He  has  the  unspeakable  privilege  and 
happiness  of  giving  himself  voluntarily,  and,  as  it  were, 
ultroneously,  to  the  Lord,  who  willingly  gave  himself  for  him. 
He  simply  hears,  or  overhears,  a  conversation  in  heaven ;  a 
question  asked  and  waiting  to  be  answered. 

It  is  an  intimation,  a  hint,  of  work  to  be  done,  service  to 
be  rendered,  a  message  or  embassy  to  be  discharged.  No 
order  is  issued.  No  special  call  is  addressed  to  him  or  to  any 
one  in  particular.  But  can  he  hear  the  announcement  un- 
moved ?  Is  not  the  statement  of  the  fact  enough  for  him  ? 
The  question,  he  might  say,  is  not  addressed  to  me.  It  is  a 
consultation  or  conversation  in  heaven.  It  says  nothing  to 
indicate  its  being  meant  for  me  on  earth.  Surely  it  Avere 
better  that  an  angelic  spirit,  one  of  the  countless  hosts 
crying,  "Holy,  holy,  holy,  Lord  God  Almighty,"  should 
undertake  the  task,  whatever  it  may  be,  than  I,  but  now 
undone,  unclean,  and  scarcely  yet  able  to  realise  the  purging 
of  my  sin.  But  no.  The  Lord's  servant  recognises,  and 
with  deep  gratitude  feels,  the  Lord's  gracious  condescension 
in  leaving  it  to  him  to  make,  as  it  Avere,  the  first  move.  I 
hear  thee.  Lord,  saying.  Whom  shall  I  send  ?     I  might  shrink, 


ISAIAH'S  VISIOX.  99 

I  might  hesitate,  as  a  poor  guilty  sinner,  whom  a  glance  of  thy 
holy  eye  slays.  But  cleansed  and  quickened  by  that  live  coal 
from  off  the  altar,  the  altar  on  which  I  see  thee  ever  freshly 
pouring  out  thy  precious  blood ;  bought  with  a  price ;  bought 
to  be  thine,  thine  alone,  I  needs  must  say,  Here  am  I ;  send 
me, 

2.  The  unreservedness  of  that  reply  is  wonderful.  It  is  a 
reply  in  the  dark,  and  without  any  hint  or  stipulation  for 
light.  Not  a  question  is  asked ;  not  a  condition  or  stipulation 
annexed.  It  is  not,  "  Send  me  if  the  work  is  to  be  easy ;  send 
me  if  the  embassy  is  to  be  honourable  ;  send  me  if  the  issue 
of  the  errand  is  to  be  prosperous  and  successful."  Nor  is  there 
anything  hke  making  terms,  as  for  a  suitable  recompense  of 
reward.  There  is  no  hanging  back  under  the  plausible  guise 
of  self-distrust.  "  If  I  can  but  persuade  myself  that  I  am 
adequate  to  the  post ;  if  I  dare  but  think  that  thou  countest 
me  qualified,  then.  Lord,  send  me."  No  such  double-deahng 
is  there  here  ;  no  such  contingent  faith,  masking  voluntary 
unbelief.  It  is  no  half-hearted  purpose,  conditional  on  circum- 
stances ;  but  the  full,  single-eyed  heartiness  of  one  loving 
much,  because  forgiven  much,  that  breaks  out  in  the  frank, 
unqualified, unconditional  self-enlistment  and  self-enrolment  in 
the  Lord's  host, — "  Here  am  I,  send  me."  Hence,  accordingly, 
the  crowning  proof  and  pledge  of  his  conversion,  his  cleansing, 
his  revival,  his  calling  or  commission.  He  now  first  learns, 
now  for  the  first  time,  after  he  has  committed  himself  beyond 
the  possibility  of  honourable  retractation  or  recall,  what  is 
the  errand  darkly  indicated  by  the  heavenly  voice,  "Whom 
shall  I  send,  and  who  will  go  for  us  ? 

At  first  there  may  be  secretly  the  feeling  that  any  mission 
on  which  such  a  master  may  send  me  must  have  in  it  the 
elements  of  intrinsic  glory  and  assured  triumph.  But  as  it 
turns  out  it  is  far  otherwise  than  that.  The  case  is  altogether 
the  reverse.      The  mission  is  to  be  a  mission  of  judgment. 


100  ISAIAH'S  VISION. 

It  is  to  "be  of  a  sternly  retributive  character.  It  is  to  seal  the 
final  condemnation  of  the  people  to  whom  it  is  addressed. 
The  message  may  be  in  itself  one  of  mercy  ;  the  full  and  free 
proclamation  of  the  gospel.  But  in  my  hands,  at  my  voice, 
it  is  to  have  a  hardening,  and  not  a  softening  effect.  Men's 
minds  are  to  be  judicially  blinded  ;  their  hearts  are  to  be 
judicially  hardened.  It  is  no  pleasant  office  that  is  to  be 
discharged  ;  no  smooth  and  smiling  sea  on  which  he  who  has 
been  all  but  shipwrecked  himself  is  thus  to  launch  forth,  on 
a  cruise  that,  however  well  meant  and  weU  fitted  for  saving 
them,  is  to  issue  in  the  shipwreck  of  the  entire  fleet,  infatuated 
and  undone. 

Eut  what  then  1  Does  the  freshly-quickened  volunteer 
withdraw  his  offer  1  or  qualify  it  1  or  raise  any  question  at  all 
about  it  ?  Does  he  say — "  Nay,  but,  Lord,  this  is  more  than  I 
volunteered  for  ;  more  than  I  anticipated,  or  could  well  anti- 
cipate ;  more  than  I  would  have  felt  myself  warranted  to 
undertake,  if  I  had  not  been  led  on  in  the  dark  1  I  did  not 
mean  to  commit  myself  to  this."  No.  He  simply  asks  one 
question  ;  a  brief  one  ;  comprised  in  three  words — "  Lord,  how 
long  1 "  It  is  a  question  indicating  nothing  like  reluctance  or 
hesitation  ;  no  repenting  of  his  offer ;  no  drawing  back.  He 
makes  no  claim  to  be  released  from  his  engagement.  He 
craves  no  indulgence.  For  himself  he  has  nothing  more  to 
say.  It  is  only  in  the  interest  of  his  people,  and  out  of  deepest 
sympathy  with  them,  that  the  irrepressible  cry  of  piety  and 
of  patriotism  bursts  from  his  lips — "  Lord,  how  long  1  how 
long  1 "  And  all  the  satisfaction,  all  the  comfort,  he  gets, 
is  distant  and  dark.  It  is  but  a  faint  streak  of  light  that 
breaks  the  heavy  gloom.  The  disastrous  issue  of  his  ministry 
is  to  last  till  the  desolation  is  very  thorough  and  complete. 
Down  the  stream  of  years  and  ages  he  is  stiU  to  see  the 
gospel  message  he  has  to  bear  becoming  more  and  more  a 
savour  of  death  unto  death  to  the  people  whom  he  warmly 


Isaiah's  vision.  101 

loves.  Still  there  is  always  a  remnant  to  be  saved.  There 
is  an  element  of  vitality  in  the  root,  and  stem,  and  branch  of 
David,  that  is  indestructible.  The  plant  may  be  cut  down 
and  cut  over,  again  and  again,  ever  so  many  times.  But  there 
is  a  holy  and  a  Hving  seed  in  it  that  will  be  ever  and  anon 
springing  up  in  a  holy  and  living  growth  ;  partial  indeed,  and 
local ;  yet  preparing  the  way  for  the  final  flourishing  of  the 
tree  and  the  spreading  of  its  branches  over  all  the  earth. 
Such  hope,  however  limited  and  deferred,  is  enough  for  the 
gospel  volunteer.  He  does  not  recall,  virtually  he  repeats, 
his  offer — "  Here  am  I,  send  me." 

Here,  and  by  way  of  j^ractical  application,  let  me  return 
back  from  the  end  to  the  beginning  of  this  great  evangelical 
experience. 

1.  Do  I  find  myself  staggering  at  the  call,  Go  ?  Am  I  in- 
clined to  draw  back,  to  make  difficulties,  or  yield  to  difficul- 
ties presented  to  me  1  Am  I  beginning  to  feel  the  Lord's 
work  and  warfare,  for  which  I  volunteered  into  his  service, 
too  slow  or  too  hard  ?  Am  I  growing  weary,  desponding  ; 
formal  and  perfunctory,  because  heartless  and  hopeless,  in 
my  mission  for  Christ  ?  Has  that  no  connection  with  my  own 
spiritual  state  ?  May  it  not  betoken  a  sad,  and  perhaps  growing, 
unconcern  about  my  own  personal  sanctification  ?  Am  I  not 
becoming  insensible  or  indifferent  to  uncleanness,  if  not  in  act, 
yet  in  thought  and  speech  ;  my  own  uncleanness  and  the 
world's  1  Ah  !  when  I  cease  to  be  thoroughl}'-,  out  and  out, 
a  volunteer  in  the  Lord's  missionary  army  ;  when  my  re- 
sponse to  his  summons  is  no  longer  altogether  spontaneous 
and  warm  ;  when  I  am  discouraged  by  ill-treatment  and  iU- 
success  ;  when  I  am  listless  and  weary  ;  let  me  look  well 
to  my  own  personal  religious  state.  How  is  it  with  me  as 
regards  my  own  soul ;  its  thirst  after  God  ;  its  recoil  from  all 
ungodliness  1    May  there  not  be  creeping  over  me  a  sort  of 


102  Isaiah's  vision. 

carnal  and  worldly  sloth  1   a  willingness  to  connive  at  and 
tolerate  evil ;  in  others  perhaps  first ;  and  then  also  in  myself  ? 

2.  Does  this  discovery  disquiet  me  1  Does  it  grieve  me  to 
find  that  I  am  less  cordial  in  saying,  "  Here  am  I ;  send  me  ; " 
because  I  am  getting  reconciled  to  things  as  they  are,  in  my 
own  lips,  and  the  people's  lips  among  whom  I  dwell  1  Let 
me  sufi'er  the  Lord  to  bring  me  into  a  close,  personal,  solitary 
dealing  with  himself.  K'othing  short  of  that  will  meet  my 
case.  Let  there  be  a  process  of  enlightenment,  conviction,  re- 
vival ;  secret,  deeply  secret ;  in  the  inmost  shrine  of  his  holy 
presence  ;  in  the  inmost  shrine  of  my  spiritually  awakened 
soul.  Let  it  be  sight ;  faith  becoming  vision ;  enduring  as  see- 
ing him  who  is  invisible,  Immanuel,  God  with  us.  No 
name  or  notion  merely  ;  but  a  real,  living  personaKty ;  the 
Lord  sovereign,  living,  holy  ;  showing  himself  to  me  ;  speak- 
ing to  me  ;  laying  his  holy  hand  on  me,  a  sinner !  I  am 
smitten  down !  I  see  and  feel  the  guilt  of  uncleanness  ;  my  own 
and  the  people's.  Especially  I  see  and  feel  the  guilt  of  my 
inclination  to  indulge,  to  tolerate,  to  treat  it  as  a  venial  sin. 
Yes ;  so  to  treat  that  foul  leprosy  of  uncleanness,  disguising 
itself,  it  may  be,  under  idle  words.  These  very  words  con- 
demn me.  I  loathe  myself  on  account  of  them,  for  they  are 
my  very  self.  In  the  awful  presence  of  the  Lord,  sin  is  ex- 
ceeding sinful ;  guilt  is  unbearable  ;  ruin  is  real,  inevit- 
able, irreversible.  There  is  an  everlasting  undoneness.  Woe 
is  me  ! 

3.  But  let  me  not,  0  blessed  Spirit,  let  me  not  be  faith- 
less but  believing  !  Let  me  not  grieve  or  vex  thee  !  Thou 
not  merely  showest  me  the  great  altar  of  atonement,  on  which 
blood  infinitely  precious  and  sufficient  to  cleanse  from  all  sin 
is  ever  freshly  flowing.  Thou  touchest  me,  even  me,  unclean, 
unclean  with  all  my  own  uncleanness,  and  all  the  unclean- 
ness, moreover,  which  I  have  suffered  and  encouraged  in  those 
whom  I  should  have  been  influencing  otherwise.    Yes  !   Thou 


ISAIAH'S  VISION.  103 

touchest  me!  Oh  that  I  may  willingly  let  thee  touch  me, 
— the  uncleanest  part  of  me, — with  a  drop  of  that  precious 
blood  ; — the  least  of  the  live  coals  from  off  the  altar !  Then, 
blessed  Spirit !  open  my  ear,  that  I  may  catch  the  sound  of 
that  gracious  voice  of  thine.  This  has  pui-ged  thy  guilt !  that 
voice  of  thine  so  lovingly  in  harmony  with  what  the  victim 
on  that  altar  was  wont,  in  his  own  person,  to  say,  Thy  sins 
be  forgiven  thee. 

4.  This  is  the  best  and  only  effectual  preparation  for  serv- 
ing as  a  volunteer  in  the  Lord's  host  :  to  love,  because  for- 
given ;  to  love  much,  because  forgiven  much.  And  it  is  so, 
not  only  at  first,  but  always  ;  not  only  in  the  beginning  of 
your  Christian  calling,  but  all  throughout,  to  the  very  end. 
The  experience  must  be  continually  renewed.  And  it  may 
be  so  in  either  order. 

It  may  come  in  the  way  of  there  being  first  a  personal 
awakening.  It  must  so  come  at  first ;  and  it  may  and  will  be 
so  coming  ever  after.  In  your  first  conversion,  or  in  some 
subsequent  revival,  your  soul  is  stirred  and  moved  to  its  very 
depths.  It  is  a  selfish  concern,  some  wovdd  say.  No  ;  it  is 
a  godly  concern.  It  is  concern  about  your  own  personal 
and  individual  state  and  character  in  God's  sight.  It  is  the 
urgent,  personal  question.  What  must  I  do  ]  And  it  must 
be  so  always,  as  often  as  the  Spirit  causes  you  to  experience 
a  personal  dealing  between  you  and  God  most  high,  God 
most  holy.  But  let  such  personal  dealing,  graciously  involv- 
ing forgiveness  of  sin,  issue  always  in  the  graciously  instinc- 
tive cry,  Here  am  I ;  send  me. 

The  case  may  be  reversed.  There  is  a  voice  heard, 
Whom  shall  I  send,  and  who  will  go  for  us  ]  Thou  hearest 
it,  as  many  hear  it.  There  is  work  to  be  done  for  the  Lord. 
In  a  stirring  time  there  is  a  proclamation  from  heaven,  and 
on  earth,  for  men  to  ojffer  themselves  willingly  for  service.  It 
comes  home  to  thee.     Thou  art  touched,  raised,  stimulated  ; 


104  ISAIAH'S  VISION. 

earnest  also  and  entliusiastic  ;  thou  holclest  out  thy  hand  for 
the  badge  of  enlistment  :  Here  am  I.  Far  be  it  from  me  to 
repress  thy  desire  to  be  useful  in  the  Lord's  cause  ;  to  throw 
cold  water  on  thy  young  and  glowing  ardour  of  soul.  But  in 
faithfulness  to  thee,  as  well  as  to  the  Lord,  I  must  move  the 
previous  question  :  What  of  thyself  1  thine  own  individual 
self  ?  Hast  thou  thyself  seen  the  Lord  for  thyself,  and  been 
smitten,  and  touched,  and  healed,  and  revived,  and  cleansed, 
and  purified  1  Is  that  thine  own  experience  1  now  ?  ever 
freshly  now  1  It  would  be  cruel  to  encourage  thee,  if  it  is 
not,  to  be  one  of  the  Lord's  volunteers.  But  why  may  not 
that  be  your  experience  now  1  Oh  !  let  the  Spirit  make  it  so 
now.     Go  into  the  secret  place  of  thy  God,  and  have  peace. 

5.  The  errand  on  which  thou  art  to  be  sent  may  be  sent 
as  to  try  thee  to  thy  uttermost.  Yes  ;  I  may  be  sent  on  an 
errand  of  judgment ;  to  preach  the  Gospel ;  but  to  preach  it  with 
the  issue  of  men's  hearts  being  hardened  under  it.  I  may  be  a 
savour  of  death  unto  death  to  many  of  the  people  whom  I  long 
to  save.  This  thought  made  Paul  exclaim,  "  Who  is  suffi- 
cient for  these  things  ?  "  Ah  !  who  may  say  that,  who  may 
not  also  say,  "  Our  sufficiency  is  of  God  1 "  How  may  I  say 
that,  if  I  am  not  always  dwelling  in  his  holy  place,  beholding 
his  glory,  and  tasting  his  loving  kindness  ?  From  thence  I 
ever  come  forth,  acquiescing  in  that  issue  of  my  mission,  what- 
ever may  be  its  sphere,  but  beseeching  all  to  lay  to  heart  the 
terrible  danger  of  being  blinded  by  the  light  and  deadened  by 
the  life  that  there  is  in  the  gospel  which  I  preach.  0  my 
friends  !  let  this  danger  be  laid  to  heart  by  all  of  us.  Let  us 
hear  the  solemn  warning,  "  To-day,  while  it  is  called  to-day, 
harden  not  your  hearts." 


FAITH  GLOKIFYING  GOD.  105 


VI. 
FAITH  GLORIFYmG  GOD. 

"  Strong  in  faith,  giving  glory  to  God." — Romaks  iv.  20. 

The  leading  thought  here  is  the  connection  of  God's  glory 
Avith  our  faith.  And  it  is  a  great  thought.  God  is  glorified 
by  our  believing ;  trusting ;  taking  his  word.  He  is  glorified 
by  our  faith ;  by  our  simply  believing  his  promise ;  for  that 
is  no  more  than  giving  him  credit  for  sincerity  in  the  overtures 
of  his  mercy  which  he  addresses  to  us,  and  his  invitations  to 
us  to  be  fellow-workers  with  him.  Having  that  faith,  as  the 
gift  of  God,  we  glorify  him.  And  being  strong  in  that  faith, 
we  glorify  him  all  the  more. 

To  be  glorifying  to  God,  therefore,  our  faith  must,  I.,  have 
a  promise  on  which  to  rest.  II.  It  must  rest  on  the  promise 
in  the  right  spirit  of  confidence  in  the  person  promising. 
And,  III.,  it  must  be  strong,  or  in  the  way  of  becoming 
strong. 

I.  The  faith  in  question,  if  it  is  to  give  glory  to  God,  must 
have  a  promise  of  God  to  rest  on.  The  faith  of  Abraham, 
like  all  genuine  and  trustworthy  faith,  has  respect  to  a  promise 
on  which  it  may  lean.  Human  faith,  not  resting  on  a  divine 
promise,  is  either  folly  or  fanaticism.  Even  in  the  natural 
world  this  is  true.  We  walk  by  faith ;  but  it  is  by  faith 
grounded  on  the  promise  which  all  nature,  on  the  part  of  her 
great  Author,  gives ;  the  promise  that  nature's  laws  will 
operate,  and  her  processes  will  go  on,  with  the  regularity 


106  FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD. 

hitherto  observed.  Walking  by  faith  in  that  virtual  promise, 
you  walk  safely.  To  be  strong  in  that  faith  is  good ;  it  is 
glorifying  to  God.  But  if,  in  your  natural  walk,  you  disregard 
that  virtual  promise,  and  rush  into  danger  in  spite  of  its  con- 
ditions, the  stronger  your  faith,  the  less  is  it  either  reason- 
able on  your  part  as  students  of  nature's  laws,  or  glorifying  to 
nature's  God.  Faith  must  always  have  a  promise,  express  or 
implied,  to  grasp.  The  promise  which  Abraham's  faith  grasps 
in  this  instance  is  certainly  one  fitted  to  try  his  capacity  of 
believing  to  the  uttermost.  The  only  thing  that  can  be  said 
on  the  side  of  lessening  a  difficulty  is  this — The  promise  which 
this  faith  had  to  grasp  was  both  precise  and  definite  in  itself, 
and  unmistakably  pointed  and  personal  in  its  application. 
There  could  be  no  room  for  doubt,  either  as  to  the  exact 
thing  promised,  or  as  to  the  particular  person  to  whom  it 
was  promised. 

Ah !  but  one  says,  These  are  unspeakable  advantages  in  the 
line  of  Abraham's  faith  being  strong,  as  compared  with  mine. 
Show  me  a  promise  of  the  spiritual  good  which  you  wish  me 
to  appropriate,  as  specific  in  its  terms,  and  as  express  in  its 
personal  application  to  me,  as  was  the  promise  of  a  son  by 
Sarah  that  Abraham  got.  I  will  take  no  exception  to  it  on 
the  ground  of  antecedent  improbability.  I  will  not  scruple 
or  hesitate  for  a  moment.  Let  it  be  a  very  miracle  that  the 
promise  involves,  and  a  miracle  ever  so  stupendous,  I  will 
believe,  and  need  no  one  to  help  my  unbelief  But  you  say 
— !No  such  promise  is  given  as  the  ground  or  warrant  of  faith 
to  you.  All  that  your  faith  has  to  lay  hold  of  is  quite  vague 
and  general ;  consisting  of  indefinite  assurances  of  grace ; 
most  generous,  indeed,  and  free ;  but  not  addressed  to  you 
iudividually,  and  not  pointing  out  any  unequivocal  result  to 
be  realised  as  a  palpable  fact  in  your  experience,  such  as  Isaac's 
birth  in  that  of  Abraham.  Let  one  promise,  for  the  sake  of 
distinct  example,  be  singled  out.     Let  it  be  the  great  gospel 


FAITH  GLORIFYIKG  GOD.  107 

promise  to  which  Peter,  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  referi'ed 
— "  I  will  pour  out  of  my  Spirit  upon  all  flesh  .  .  ,  and  it 
shall  come  to  pass  that  Avhosoever  shall  call  on  the  name  of 
the  Lord  shall  be  saved."  "  Eepent,  and  be  baptized  every 
one  of  you  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  for  the  remission  of  sins, 
and  ye  shall  receive  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  For  the  pro- 
mise is  unto  you,  and  to  your  children,  and  to  all  that  are  afar 
off,  even  as  many  as  the  Lord  our  God  shall  call "  (Acts  ii. 
17,  21,  38,  39.)  Let  the  objection  now  taken  be  considered 
with  reference  to  that.  Put  in  plain  terms,  it  amounts  to  this  : 
If  I  were  called  by  name  as  Abraham  was  ;  if  I  were  told  that 
I  was  to  be  saved,  as  expHcitly  as  Abraham  was  told  that  he 
was  to  have  a  son  by  Sarah ;  and  if  my  being  saved  were  a 
matter  as  palpably  ascertainable  as  was  the  birth  of  Isaac ; 
then  the  two  cases — Abraham's  and  mine — would  be  parallel, 
and  I  might  be  expected  to  believe  as  he  did. 

But  consider  (1),  may  not  the  words  which  our  Lord  puts 
into  the  mouth  of  Abraham  liimself  be  virtually  applicable 
here  1 — "  If  they  hear  not  Moses  and  the  prophets,  neither  will 
they  be  persuaded  though  one  rose  from  the  dead."  Is  it  clear, 
that  if  I  am  not  now  complying  with  the  gospel  call,  ad- 
dressed to  all  sinners,  and  to  me  a  sinner,  I  would  comply 
with  it  more  readily  if  it  were  addressed  to  me  by  name  1 
that  if  I  am  now  neglecting  the  great  salvation,  offered  in  free 
gift  to  all,  and  among  the  all  to  me,  I  would  be  more  dis- 
posed to  accept  it,  if  it  were  offered  to  me  by  name  1  And 
again,  if  forgiveness  of  sin,  reconciliation  to  God,  renewal  of 
nature,  peace,  holiness,  hope, — if  these  and  the  like  saving 
benefits  are  now  felt  to  be  so  intangible  that  I  cannot  get 
hold  of  them,  would  it  in  any  degree  obviate  the  difficulty 
to  have  them  all  materialised,  were  that  possible ;  to  have 
them  made  up  into  a  material  packet  which  my  hand  may 
handle,  or  a  material  host  wlaich  my  eye  may  see,  or  a  material 
wafer  which  my  mouth  may  swallow  1     Let  me  not  deceive 


108  FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD. 

myself.  Let  me  not  imagine  that  if  I  believe  not  now,  it  is 
the  circumstances  of  my  position,  or  the  character  of  the  pro- 
mise, or  the  conditions  of  the  faith  required,  or  anything  else 
than  my  own  evil  heart  of  unbelief  that  is  in  fault.  Called 
by  name,  I  might,  and  I  would,  refuse  as  now ;  for  the  real 
reason  of  my  refusal  would  remain  in  force  then  as  now ;  "  Ye 
will  not  come  unto  me  that  ye  might  have  life."  A  calling 
by  name  would  not  make  me  willing.  Assured  by  name,  I 
might,  and  I  would,  decline  it  as  now.  "What  is  there  in  my 
being  so  assured  by  name  to  make  the  salvation  more  wel- 
come, more  precious,  more  indispensable  to  me,  than  now? 
And  as  regards  the  last  ground  of  difficulty,  the  intangible 
nature  of  its  blessings,  supposing  even  that  I  got  them  em- 
bodied in  some  sensible  shape  or  sign,  it  would  be  the  em- 
bodiment alone  that  became  mine.  The  blessings  embodied 
would  seem  as  shadowy  as  ever.  Be  not  deceived.  Be  sure 
that  the  call  is  personal  and  pointed  enough.  Thou,  brother, 
art  called,  and  so  am  I.  The  promise  is  to  thee  and  to  me. 
The  salvation  is  for  thee  and  for  me.  And  it  is  to  be  realised 
experimentally  in  thee  as  in  me.  Let  us  together  taste  and 
see  that  God  is  good.  Let  us  not  dream  of  our  being  more 
able  or  more  willing  somewhere  else  than  here,  or  some  time 
else  than  now.  Here  and  now,  let  us  be  willing,  in  the  day 
of  the  Lord's  power  ;  willing  to  be  the  Lord's. 

Again  (2),  understand  clearly  the  real  ultimate  object 
of  faith  of  Abraham.  It  had,  for  its  immediate  object,  the 
promise  of  the  birth  of  a  son  in  his  old  age.  But  surely 
when  Abraham  believed  that  promise,  he  did  not  contemplate 
the  event  to  which  it  pointed,  barely  and  baldly  in  itself.  He 
looked  at  it  in  its  spiritual  significancy ;  in  its  bearing  on  the 
fulfilment  of  the  great  original  promise  of  man's  redemption, 
which  he  had  been  told  was  to  be  fulfilled  in  his  seed.  But 
for  that  aspect  of  it,  the  promise  which  he  now  received  could 
really  have  no  meaning  to  him.     There  could  be  no  sense  in 


FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD.  109 

it.  In  a  worldly  point  of  view,  what  need  has  he  of  this 
child,  for  Avhose  birth  the  very  laws  of  nature  are  to  be  sus- 
pended 1  For  his  own  temporal  prosperity,  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  his  name  and  memory  on  the  earth  in  a  numerous  and 
powerful  posterity,  abundant  provision  has  been  made  already. 
Why  should  this  new  and  strange  thing  be  Avrought,  as  if  a 
mere  prodigy,  a  sport  of  nature,  were  intended,  and  nothing 
more  ?  It  cannot,  it  must  not  be.  So  Abraham  might  have 
reasoned,  according  to  the  flesh.  But  not  so  in  the  Spirit. 
The  promise  is  to  him  the  promise  of  salvation.  It  is  not 
merely  that  a  son  is  to  be  born  to  him,  as  it  were  out  of  due 
time.  In  that  son,  in  whom  his  seed  is  to  be  called,  he  is  to 
behold  the  Saviour  of  men,  and  his  own  Saviour.  In  him, 
he  is  to  see  the  day  of  Christ  afar  off  with  gladness.  The 
outward  event  which  God's  promise  indicates,  and  Abraham's 
faith  accepts,  is  but  the  crust  or  sheU.  What  Abraham,  be- 
lieving, really  grasps,  is  the  inner  substance  or  kernel :  the 
promised  Saviour,  and  the  promised  salvation.  For  it  is  not 
merely  as  a  new  "interposition  of  the  power  of  God  on  his  be- 
half that  Abraham  expects  the  birth  of  Isaac.  No ;  but  as 
the  means  of  the  accomplishment  of  that  assurance  in  Para- 
dise, on  which  he,  in  common  with  all  sinners  of  our  fallen 
race,  rests  all  his  hope  of  being  saved — "  The  seed  of  the 
woman  shaU  bruise  the  head  of  the  serpent." 

Yiewed  thus,  Abraham's  faith  really  differs  in  no  material 
respect  from  that  which  you  are  called  to  exercise.  He  has 
no  promise  on  which  his  faith  may  lean,  in  the  least  degree 
more  special  and  personal  than  you  have  :  and  what  his  faith 
has  to  lay  hold  of  is  the  same  unseen  Saviour,  and  the  same 
spiritual  salvation  that  you  have  set  before  you  in  the  Gospel. 
When  he  believes  the  promise  of  this  supernatural  birth  of 
Isaac  spiritually  apprehended,  he  does  the  very  same  thing 
which  you  have  to  do,  when  you  beheve  the  promise,  "  Who- 
soever shall  call  on  the  name  of  the  Lord  shall  be  saved  ; " 


110  FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD. 

on  the  very  same  warrant  also,  the  same,  and  nothing  else, 
and  nothhig  more.  He  renounces  all  confidence  in  the  flesh. 
He  lets  Ishmael  go,  although  once  he  had  been  fain  to  look 
to  him  for  what  he  needed ;  "  Oh  !  that  Ishmael  might  live 
before  thee."  So  he  himself  would  have  chosen  to  live  by 
sense  ;  a  son,  as  it  were,  in  hand  being  better  than  a  son  in 
promise.  But  he  does  not  so  choose  noAV,  He  submits  him- 
self to  the  righteousness  of  God.  He  embraces,  in  faith,  as 
a  sinner,  the  righteous  Saviour  yet  unborn.  He  deals,  as  you 
have  to  deal,  with  an  unseen  Christ.  And,  simply  relying, 
as  you  may  rely,  on  the  testimony  of  God  concerning  him 
who  is  to  be  his  seed  in  Isaac,  he  believes,  and  righteous- 
ness is  imputed  to  him.  "  Now,  it  was  not  written  for  his  sake 
alone,  that  it  was  imputed  to  him  :  but  for  us  also,  to  whom 
it  shall  be  imputed,  if  we  believe  on  him  that  raised  up  Jesus 
our  Lord  from  the  dead  ;  who  was  delivered  for  our  offences, 
and  was  raised  again  for  our  justification"  (vers.  23,  24,  25). 

Hence  (3),  Abraham's  case  becomes  now  really  ours.  It 
is  the  same  faith  in  which  he  was  strong  that  you  are  called 
to  exercise.  The  promise  is  the  same  to  you  as  to  him. 
You  and  he  are  in  the  same  position.  Or,  if  there  is  any 
difference,  the  advantage,  in  point  of  fact,  is  with  you. 
Abraham  had  presented  to  him,  as  the  immediate  object 
of  his  faith,  an  event  future  and  contingent ;  conditional 
upon  certain  necessary  antecedents  (vers.  19,  20).  You  have 
presented  to  you,  as  the  immediate  object  of  your  faith,  an 
event  past  and  certain  ;  an  accomplished  fact  (ver.  24). 

What  he  had  to  believe  was  the  birth  of  Isaac.  What 
you  have  to  believe  is  the  resurrection  of  Christ.  The  miracle 
with  which  his  faith  had  to  deal  was  still  in  prospect,  and,  as 
it  were,  in  the  clouds,  when,  against  all  calculations  of  proba- 
bility, he  was  called  upon  to  admit  and  act  upon  it.  The 
miracle  with  which  your  faith  has  to  deal  is  a  recorded  and 
well-attested  incident  in  history.     It  is  that  miracle  which 


FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD.  Ill 

you  have  to  receive,  and  to  work  out  to  its  legitimate,  prac- 
tical, and  personal  conclusion. 

Isaac  is  to  be  born  ;  and  in  him  is  to  be  found  the  seed 
of  the  woman  that  is  to  bruise  the  serpent's  head  :  that  is 
Abraham's  ground  of  hope.  Christ  is  risen  ;  the  seed  of 
woman  ;  having  actually  bruised  the  serpent's  head  :  that 
is  yours.  These  are  the  two  outward  and  literal  matters  of 
fact  Avhich  Abraham  and  you  have  respectively  to  receive 
and  grasp  as  1)he  grounds  of  that  inward  spiritual  confidence 
and  hope  which  alone  is  honouring  to  God.  Surely,  in  this 
view,  your  warrant  of  faith  is  not  less  than  was  that  of 
Abraham.  On  the  whole,  is  it  not  true,  and  clearly  true,  that 
you  have  at  least  as  good  reason,  and  as  much  cause,  to  be 
strong  in  faith  as  Abraham  had  ? 

II.  This  raises  the  second  question  :  What  is  the  sort  of 
faith  which  is  to  be  exercised  upon  the  promise  1  It  must 
be  such  as  will  be  glorifying  to  God.  Generally,  it  is  true 
that  to  be  strong  in  faith  is  glorifying  to  God.  It  is  so, 
however,  when  my  faith  is  the  result  of  a  directly  personal 
dealing,  on  my  part,  with  God ;  when  it  is  a  real  personal 
transaction  between  him  and  me.  To  be  glorifying  to  God 
at  all,  my  faith,  whether  weak  or  strong,  must  be  fiiitli  in  his 
veracity;  in  his  truth  and  faithfulness  ;  in  his  mere  and  simple 
word ;  in  himself  It  is  to  believe  what  he  says,  simplj'  be- 
cause he  says  it ;  because  it  is  he  who  says  it.  No  other  sort 
of  faith,  no  faith  resting  on  any  other  ground,  can  be  glorify- 
ing to  him.  I  may  believe  many  things  concerning  God  upon 
evidence  which  approves  itself  to  my  natural  reason,  my  con- 
science, my  heart.  I  may  believe  many  things  revealed  by 
God  because  they  commend  themselves  to  my  sense  of  what 
is  true,  and  fair,  and  reasonable,  and  right.  I  may  construct, 
or  I  may  embrace,  a  theology,  both  natural  and  revealed, 
wliich  shall  be  thoroughly  correct  and  sound  in  itself,  and 


112  FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD. 

therefore,  as  to  the  matter  of  it,  in  harmony  with  God's 
glory  ;  which  yet,  so  far  as  I,  the  author  of  it,  or  the  receiver 
of  it,  am  concerned,  is  not  glorifying  to  God,  but  the  reverse. 
For  it  may  be  a  theology  in  which  I  deal  with  him,  not  as  a 
person,  but  very  much  as  a  thing.  God  is  to  me,  if  not  a 
bare  name,  yet,  at  the  best,  a  notion  ;  an  idea ;  a  conception  ; 
a  sort  of  abstract  term  in  a  scientific  or  algebraic  formula.  I 
make  out,  by  a  land  of  mental  manipulation ;  by  formal  logic 
or  reasoning ;  his  existence  and  some  of  his  attributes.  I 
prove,  demonstratively,  that  he  is  ;  and  that  he  is  so  and  so  ; 
and  must  act,  and  does  act,  so  and  so.  I  elaborate  in  this  way 
a  whole  system  of  law  and  government,  which  I  can  establish 
in  argument,  and  which  I  can  defy  any  one  to  overthrow. 
There  is  faith ;  strong  faith.  But  is  it  glorifying  to  God  1  In 
being  thus  strong  in  faith,  do  I  glorify  God  1 

My  faith,  if  it  is  to  be  glorifying  to  God,  must  have  its 
root  and  source  and  origin  in  a  real  and  actual  personal  deal- 
ing between  bim  and  me.  He  and  I  must  meet  personally, 
face  to  face  j  as  truly  as  he  and  Abraham  met  personally,  face 
to  face.  We  must — let  it  be  said  with  reverence — we  must 
know  one  another ;  understand  one  another ;  trust  one  an- 
other. No  other  kind  of  faith  than  that  can  be  glorifying, 
pleasing,  honouring,  to  him  who  is  its  object ;  be  he  human 
or  divine.  What !  Shall  I  be  contented  that  a  member  of 
my  family  should  go  about  to  satisfy  himself  by  evidence  from 
hearsay,  or  from  circumstances  ;  by  listening  to  how  men  out- 
side talk  of  me ;  or  by  watching  and  weighing  some  of  my  own 
outside  movements,  and  some  even  of  my  recorded  utterances 
and  writings ;  as  to  the  opinion  he  should  form  of  my  character, 
and  the  measure  or  extent  to  which  he  should  conform  his 
own  conduct  to  what  he  can  thus  gather  of  my  purposes  and 
plans  1  Is  that  a  sort  of  faith  which  I  can  feel  to  be  either 
comphmentary  or  kind  1  Does  it  do  me  any  honour  1  Can 
it  yield  me  any  gratification  1    Is  it  not,  ou  the  contrary,  if 


FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD.  113 

not  an  insult  and  offence,  a  sore  and  bitter  disappointment 
and  mortification  to  me  1  For  does  it  not  show  tliat  I  am 
held  to  be,  not  a  friend,  or  father,  who  may  be  fondly  re- 
sorted to,  that  I  may  be  trusted  and  consulted  ;  but  an  enemy 
who  must  be  watched,  in  order  to  be  evaded,  or,  at  the  best, 
a  suspected  stranger,  about  whom  and  about  whose  movements 
it  may  be  desirable  to  be  informed  ;  not  that  he  may  be  ear- 
nestly sought  after,  but  that  he  may  be  decently  and  safely 
shunned  1  I  may  be  to  one  so  regarding  me  an  object  of 
faith  ;  and  of  strong  faith.  He  may  have  a  strong  belief  and 
sense  of  my  existence,  and  of  those  attributes  and  ways  of 
mine  that  make  my  existence  a  fact  to  whicli  he  must  some- 
how contrive  to  accommodate  himself,  if  he  can,  or  else  be 
miserable.  The  strength  of  his  faith  in  me,  such  as  it  is,  may 
thus  prompt  the  maddest  and  most  convulsive  efforts  to  come 
to  terms  with  me.  Or  it  may  plunge  him  in  angry  despair 
when  these  efforts  seem  to  fail.  If  I  were  a  devil,  I  mia-ht 
count  such  faith  to  be  gratifying  and  glorifying  to  me.  It 
is  in  some  such  sense  that,  as  regards  God,  the  devils  them- 
selves believe  and  tremble. 

But  the  faith  which  might  be  acceptable  to  devils ;  the 
faith  of  which  devils  are  capable  ;  is  not  the  faith  which  can 
be  glorifying  to  God.  To  be  strong  in  such  faith  as  that  can- 
not give  glory  to  God.    No. 

If  I  am  so  to  believe,  and  so  to  be  strong  in  faith,  as 
to  give  glory  to  God  ;  my  believing,  my  strong  faith,  must 
proceed  upon,  it  must  be  the  fruit  of,  my  acquainting  myself 
with  him.  "  They  that  know  thy  name  will  put  tlieir  trust  in 
thee."  That,  and  that  alone,  is  the  faith  to  be  strong  in  which 
can  be  glorifying  to  God.  Yes  ;  it  must  be  faith  grounded  on 
my  knowledge  of  his  name.  And  the  knowledge  must  be 
direct,  immediate,  personal ;  not  my  knowing  about  him  ;  but 
my  knowing  himself.  Abraham  believed  God.  God  sjioke 
to  Abraham,  and  Abraham  beheved  God.      God,  the  living. 


114  FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD. 

personal  God,  the  I  AM,  speaks  to  you ;  he  personally  to  you 
personally. 

True,  there  is  not  in  your  case  a  visible  divine  presence, 
an  audible  divine  voice.  There  is  interposed  between  God  and 
you  a  messenger  crying,  Thus  saith  the  Lord ;  or  a  book,  out 
of  whose  varied  and  miscellaneous  contents  you  have  to 
gather  for  yourselves,  often  indirectly,  sometimes  with  diffi- 
culty, what  the  Lord  says.  Still  it  is  neither  with  the  mes- 
senger, nor  with  the  book,  that  you,  in  believing,  have  to  do. 
It  is  not  the  trustworthiness  of  the  message ;  it  is  not  the 
authenticity  or  the  inspired  and  infallible  truthfulness  of 
the  book,  that  your  faith  ultimately  grasps.  You  must  indeed 
satisfy  yourselves,  on  good  grounds,  that  the  messenger  is 
trustworthy ;  that  the  book  is  true.  But  that  is  only  the  pre- 
liminary process.  "When  you  have  arrived  at  that  conclusion, 
you  are  still  only  on  the  threshold.  The  messenger,  the  book, 
must  be  allowed  to  introduce  you  to  God  himself.  You 
must  be  as  a  little  child ;  as  the  child  Samuel,  saying,  "  Speak, 
Lord,  for  thy  servant  heareth."  Then,  only  then,  are  you  in  a 
position  really  to  believe  so  as  to  give  glory  to  God.  Then, 
out  of  the  mouth  of  babes  and  sucklings  God  hath  jDcrfected 
praise. 

0  be  sure  that  this  is  a  capital,  a  most  cardinal,  a  vital 
point,  as  regards  the  essence  of  vital  godliness,  and  the  place 
and  power  of  faith  in  connection  with  it  !  Let  me  insist  upon 
the  point.  Let  me  bring  you  this  day,  here  and  now,  face  to 
face  with  your  God. 

Let  me  bring  you, — did  I  say  ?  Nay,  there  is  One  nearer 
to  you,  to  every  one  of  you,  than  I,  or  any  messenger,  or  any 
book,  can  ever  be. 

Why  has  he  who  at  sundry  times  and  in  divers  manners 
spake  in  time  past  unto  the  fathers  by  the  prophets,  in  these 
last  days  spoken  unto  us  by  his  Son  1  Why  is  that  Holy  Spirit 
who  is  even  now  moving  in  you,  sent  forth  to  testify  of  him  ] 


FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD.  115 

What  is  it  that  the  Son  and  the  Sjiirit  would  have  you 
even  now  to  be  doing?  To  be  seeing  the  Father  :  to  be  hear- 
ing tlie  Father  :  to  know  the  Father  :  to  beheve  the  Father  : 
to  know  and  beheve  the  love  wherewith  he  loves  you.  Oh  ! 
come,  and  appear  every  one  of  you  personally  before  God.  It 
is  not  some  one  telling  you  something  about  God,  but  God 
himself,  that  you  are  to  believe,  if  your  believing  is  to  give 
glory  to  God.  Oh  !  let  there  be  no  mistake,  no  misgiving 
here.  Let  no  notion  of  anybody,  or  anything  whatever  being 
to  be  believed  come  in  between  you  and  your  believing  God, 
and  so  giving  glory  to  him. 

III.  But  what  about  being  strong  in  faith?  It  is  not 
simply  believing,  but  being  strong,  or  being  strengthened,  in 
faith,  that  gives  glory  to  God.  Abraham  not  only  believed 
God,  but  was  strong  in  faith,  giving  glory  to  God.  JS'ow,  in 
considering  what  it  is  to  be  strong  in  faith,  we  must  bear  in 
mind  the  Lord's  own  saying — "  If  ye  have  faith  as  a  grain  of 
mustard  seed,  .  .  .  nothing  shall  be  impossible  with  you." 
The  woman  with  an  issue  of  blood,  who  could  but  summon 
courage  to  touch  the  hem  of  the  Lord's  garment,  and  when 
called  into  his  presence,  came  fearing  and  trembling,  was 
apparently  not  strong  in  faith.  And  yet  her  faith  did  a  great 
thing  for  her.  It  availed  for  her  immediate  and  thorough 
cure :  "  Thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole."  This  woman  be- 
lieved God.  She  believed  him  who,  as  God  Avith  us,  has  power 
on  earth  to  heal  all  manner  of  diseases  and  to  forgive  sins. 
She  had  heard  him  often  say  in  words,  and  more  emphatically 
than  in  words,  by  deeds,  "  I  wiU;  be  thou  whole."  He  was  say- 
ing it  then,  for  he  was  going  to  heal  the  daughter  of  Jairus. 
In  those  blessed  feet  bent  on  that  gracious  errand,  in  that  face 
of  tenderness  and  pity,  the  woman  read  the  words  which  every 
sick  and  weary  one  might  read  for  himself,  for  herself,  always 
there,  "  I  wiU ;    be  thou  whole."     And  she  believed  him. 


116  FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD.       ' 

She  believed  that  he  meant  what  he  said,  when  to  every  sufferer 
who  drew  near  to  him,  to  every  sufferer  whom  he  saw,  to 
herself  as  suffering — ah !  how  sorely — he  said,  "I  will ;  be  thou 
whole."  Surely  God  in  his  Son  was  greatly  glorified  through 
that  trembling  woman's  faith.  Was  she  then,  after  all,  this 
daughter  of  Abraham,  like  Abraham  himself,  strong  in  faith  ? 
Is  it  being  strong  in  faith  to  say,  as  she  said  within  herself, 
"  If  I  may  but  touch  his  garment,  I  shall  be  whole"  1  1  think 
it  is  such  faith  as  that,  such  a  believing  of  the  Lord,  such 
immediate,  personal,  dealing  with  the  Lord,  knowing  him  for 
herself,  apprehending  him  for  herself;  even  such  trembling 
faith  as  hers,  bringing  her  into  contact  and  union  with  the 
Almighty  and  All-loving  One,  that  puts  aU  his  power  and  love 
in  operation  on  her  behalf,  and  so  is  really  strong. 

For  let  us  well  observe  what  the  apostle  means  when  he 
speaks  of  being  strong  in  faith,  so  as  to  give  glory  to  God ; 
strong,  in  what  sort  of  faith  1  and  strong  in  it,  how  1  Here 
the  context  may  guide  us.  For  the  strength  of  this  faith,  as 
the  preceding  and  following  verses  plainly  teach,  consists  : 
negatively,  in  not  considering  what  sense  may  urge  against 
the  promise ;  and  positively,  in  a  full  persuasion  and  assur- 
ance of  the  ability  of  the  promiser  to  make  good  his  word. 

Negatively,  it  is  not  considering  what  sense  may  urge 
against  the  promise  (vers.  19,  20).  If  he  had  considered  or  re- 
garded these  things,  Abraham  would  have  been  weak  in  faith. 

And  yet  he  might  have  considered  these  things,  with  at  least 
as  much  reason  or  excuse  as  you  have  for  considering  such 
difficulties  and  objections  as  you  are  often  apt  to  find,  or 
tempted  to  conjure  up,  when  you  are  asked  to  believe  God. 

Certainly,  they  were  formidable  obstacles  that  had  to  be 
overcome  by  a  miracle  of  power  upon  him,  and  by  what  we 
might  well  call  a  miracle  of  f;iith  within  him.  Everything  in 
his  condition  and  in  his  experience,  everything  that  he  could 
see  and  know  and  feel,  in  nature  and  in  himself,  was  against 


FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD.  117 

his  believing.  And  what  had  ho  on  the  otlier  side  for  be- 
lieving 1  Simply  God  speaking ;  God  promising.  That, 
hovrever,  prevailed.  If  it  had  not,  he  would  have  been  weak 
in  feith.  And  he  might  have  staggered  at  the  promise  of  God 
through  unbelief.  He  might  have  staggered.  The  word  is 
well  chosen.  He  might  have  been  divided  in  judgment ; 
distracted ;  not  able,  on  the  one  hg-nd,  to  ignore,  or  set  at 
nought,  the  promise  of  God ;  and  yet  not  able,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  disregard  the  obstacles  in  the  way  of  its  fulfdment. 
The  result  of  such  a  balance  of  forces  is  distraction,  stagger- 
ing ;  between  the  promise,  not  altogether  disowned  and  dis- 
believed, and  the  difficulties  too  much  considered.  But 
Abraham  was  strong  in  faith.  And  his  being  strong  in  faith 
consisted,  to  a  large  extent,  in  his  not  considering  the  tilings 
which  stood  in  the  way  of  what  he  had  to  believe. 

This  is  a  merely  negative  element  of  the  strength  of  faith  ; 
not  considering ;  not  regarding.  And  it  may  seem  to  be 
taking  low  ground,  and  even  unsafe  ground,  to  say  that  a  man 
is  strong  in  faith,  with  regard  to  any  result  to  be  achieved, 
merely  because  he  does  not  consider  the  difHculties  of  the 
enterprise.  But  it  is  not  so.  For  we  must  distinguish  this 
"  not  considering  "  these  difficulties  from  the  mere  shutting  of 
the  eyes  to  the  fact  of  their  existence.  I  may  be  so  bent 
upon  the  attainment  of  an  object  of  desire  as  unconsciously  to 
overlook  all  intervening  obstacles,  and  fondly  persuade  myself 
that  what  I  wish  must  be  possible,  simply  because  I  wish  it. 
Or  I  may  be  so  impatient,  venturous,  foolhardy,  as  to  be 
wilfully  blind  to  everything  but  the  gratifying  of  my  heart's 
desire.  To  be  strong  in  some  such  faith  as  that  is  not  at  all 
uncommon  or  unnatural.  It  is  the  strength  or  courage  of 
mere  blind  animal  impetuosity,  that,  with  visor  down  and 
lance  in  rest,  runs  a  tilt  at  aU  and  sundry.  Not  such  was  the 
faith  of  Abraham.  He  had  full  in  view  the  obstacles  in  the 
way  of  the  promise.     And  this  was  the  very  strength  of  his 


118  FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD. 

faith,  that,  having  them  full  in  view,  he  disregarded  them  ; 
he  did  not  consider  them.  They  were  of  no  account  with  him. 
And  why  1     God  spoke  ;  and  he  helieved. 

Ah  !  these  difficulties,  questions,  objections ;  these  sug- 
gestions and  surmises  of  sense  :  I  am  too  old,  and  my  wife  is 
too  old ;  I  am  too  far  gone,  and  she  is  too  far  gone ;  for  con- 
version, for  life,  for  fruitfulness.  How  am  I  ever  to  get  over 
them  1  I  must  ignore  them.  I  must  banish  them  from  my 
consideration  if  I  am  to  be  strong  in  faith.  And  may  I  not 
ignore  them  1  banish  them  from  my  consideration  1  Am  I 
not  warranted  to  do  so  1  Nay,  is  it  not  weakness  to  consider 
them,  if  I  have  faith  at  all ;  if  I  have  anything  at  all  of  that 
faith  which  is  really  glorifying  to  God  1  Let  me  grasp  and 
hold  fast  the  thought  that  I  am  face  to  face  with  my  God. 
Do  I  really  hear  him  speaking  to  me  ?  Is  there  a  real  per- 
sonal communication  from  him  to  me  ]  And  is  it  with  such 
a  communication  from  him  to  me  ;  or  rather  with  himself,  as 
thus  in  communication  with  me,  that  I  have  to  do  1 

What  means,  in  such  circumstances,  my  staggering,  my 
distraction,  my  staggering,  and  being  distracted,  between  what 
he  says  or  promises,  and  what  may  seem,  and  may  really  be, 
most  opposed  to  it,  in  myself,  or  in  all  the  world  1  The 
weakness  of  faith  is  to  be  considering  your  own  body  now 
dead,  and  the  deadness  of  your  Sarah's  womb.  It  is  that 
which  makes  you  a  staggering  believer ;  staggering  as  a  be- 
liever through  unbelief,  and  soon  staggering  into  unbelief 
altogether. 

Alas  !  how  is  faith  weakened  and  made  to  stagger  by  your 
considering  what  sense  says  or  suggests  against  it.  In  every 
department,  in  every  walk  of  the  spiritual  life,  is  it  not  so  1 

Am  I  called,  as  a  poor  guilty  sinner,  to  believe  in  the 
Lord  Jesus  for  the  forgiveness  of  all  my  sins  and  my  peace  with 
God?  God  himself  is  telling  me,  not  of  a  child  to  be  born,  but 
of  the  Child  actually  born  ;  and  not  of  his  birth  merely,  but  of 


FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD.  119 

his  wondrous  life  and  death  ;  and  of  his  rising  from  the  dead, 
and  reigning,  and  receiving  the  Spirit  to  give,  to  give  to  me, 
and'  coming  once  again  to  receive  me  to  himself.  God  liim- 
self  is  telling  me  of  this  Christ,  in  his  gospel,  by  his 
Spirit.  He  is  telling  me  of  this  Christ  as  mine,  if  I  will  but 
have  him  to  be  mine.  Alas  !  I  give  heed  to  considerations 
that  seem  to  make  all  this  impossible  in  my  case.  I  am  not 
worthy  enough,  or  vile  enough.  I  have  not  repentance 
enough,  or  faith  enough.  I  see  not  how  certain  difficulties  are 
to  be  solved,  and  certain  apparent  contrarieties,  as  of  my  elec- 
tion of  grace  and  my  voluntary  choice,  are  to  be  reconciled.  I 
will  not,  I  cannot,  make  up  my  mind  absolutely  to  reject 
Christ.  But  I  waver  and  vacillate  ;  I  stagger  at  the  promise 
through  unbelief.  I  stagger  into  unbelief.  Is  this  giving  glory 
to  God  1 

As  regards  a  holy  life,  this  evil  is  sorely  felt ;  the  evil 
of  my  considering  what  is  against  it,  so  as  to  stagger  at  the 
promise  of  God  that  should  make  it  mine.  Ah  !  how  am  I 
tempted  here  to  consider  my  own  deadness  ;  and  so  to  con- 
sider it,  as  to  put  up  with  it,  and  make  allowance  for  it ;  as 
if  the  quickening  of  it  were  scarcely,  in  any  other  than  a  very 
faint  and  feeble  manner,  to  be  expected  or  sought  1  How 
staggering  is  my  walk  through  unbelief.  How  apt  am  I  to 
dwell  on  infirmities  and  hindrances  ;  how  ready  to  acquiesce  in 
what  I  am,  as  if  it  were  all  I  might  be.  Alas  !  for  this  con- 
sidering of  what  hinders,  to  the  neglect  of  what  might  help 
my  growth  in  grace  and  in  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  my 
Lord.     How  does  it  interfere  with  my  giving  glory  to  God  ! 

For  others,  as  well  as  for  myself,  my  faith  is  to  be  ex- 
ercised. I  plead  with  God  for  a  child,  a  brother,  a  friend. 
I  have  promises  to  plead.  God  himself  is  encouraging  me  to 
plead  them,  I  spread  out  before  God  the  case  of  my  beloved 
one  ;  I  would  have  God  to  deliver,  convert,  save  him.  I  know 
that  God  would  have  me  to  seek  his  deliverance,  conversion, 


120  FAITH  GLOEIFYING  GOD. 

salvation.  Ah  !  can  it  be  that  here  too  I  am  hindered  by  my 
considering  the  suggestions  of  sense,  and  giving  heed  to  diffi- 
culties and  questions  respecting  his  deadness  and  mine  1  Am 
I  straitened  1  Do  I  stagger  ?  Are  my  prayers  for  my  soul's 
darling  vacillating,  hesitating,  halting  1  Am  I  dwelling,  even 
when  I  pray  for  him,  on  the  improbability  and  difficulty  of 
his  getting  the  good  for  which  I  pray  1  Is  not  my  weak  faith 
fast  staggering  into  unbelief  1  Am  I  not  teaching  and  habi- 
tuating myself  to  become  reconciled  to  his  loss  ?  and  if  to  his, 
ah  !  why  not  to  my  ownl 

For  the  seed  of  Abraham ;  for  him  who  is  the  seed  of 
Abraham,  and  for  all  that  is  his;  his  cause  and  kingdom;  his 
church  and  people  ;  the  progress  of  his  gospel ;  the  winning 
of  souls  to  him ;  for  all  that,  I  am  commanded  to  believe 
God.  Alas !  for  my  weakness  in  this  faith.  How  do  I  con- 
sider the  mountains  that  are  in  my  way  !  How  easily  do  I  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  they  are  insurmountable  ;  or  at  least 
that  the  surmounting  of  them  is  not  to  be  looked  for  now ;  or 
not  to  any  considerable  extent ;  or  not  by  means  of  such 
agency  of  mine  !  In  the  work  of  the  Lord  I  stagger.  It  is 
my  weakness  in  the  faith  becoming  unbelief 

For  all  this  staggering,  as  regards  either  my  own  stand- 
ing in  the  sight  of  God,  or  my  progress  in  holiness,  or 
my  pleading  for  a  beloved  one,  or  my  interest  in  the  cause 
and  work  of  the  Lord ;  for  all  this  unsteadfastness  of  weak 
faith,  ever  running  into  unbelief,  the  remedy  is  to  be  found, 
at  least  in  part,  in  the  negative  way  of  not  considering  the 
difficulties  which  sense  may  raise.  And  it  is  not  unreasonable 
to  ask  you  to  cease  from  considering  them.  For  you  are  called 
to  believe  God  in  the  matter  to  which  they  relate.  To  bid  you 
disregard  them  on  any  other  ground  would  be  vain.  And 
accordingly,  when  such  difficulties  really  distress  you  ;  as  for 
instance,  especially,  when  the  question  of  your  personal 
interest  in  Christ  and  his  salvation  is  raised  ;   and  you  are 


FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD.  121 

inclined  to  give  heed  to  the  objections  and  scruples  and  ques- 
tions which  your  guilty  conscience  and  your  doubting  heart 
are  sure  to  suggest ;  and  to  hesitate  and  hang  back  until  you 
are  satisfied  upon  every  point  upon  which  a  scruple  may  be 
raised  ;  I  would  not  meet  you  with  argument.  I  would  carry 
you  at  once  to  God,  and  desire  you  to  hear  and  to  believe  him. 
I  w^ould  have  you  to  be  no  more  solicitous  as  to  how  you,  so 
great  a  sinner,  can  be  saved,  than  Abraham  was,  as  to  how^  he, 
so  old  a  man,  could  be  a  father.  I  would  exhort  you  to  be  like 
him,  who,  being  not  weak  in  faith,  considered  not  his  own  body 
now  dead ;  neither  yet  the  deadness  of  Sarah's  womb  ;  and 
therefore  staggered  not  at  the  promise  of  God  through  unbelief. 
For  now,  positively,  notice  what,  as  the  apostle  explains 
it,  being  strong  in  faith  really  is.  It  is  simply  being  fully 
persuaded  "  that  what  he  had  promised  he  was  able  also 
to  perform."  (ver.  21).  Nay,  but  who  doubts  that?  you 
ask.  I  at  least  never  dream  of  calling  in  question  the 
omnipotence  of  God.  I  perfectly  well  know,  and  am  firmly 
convinced,  that  what  he  has  promised  he  is  able  also  to  per- 
form. And  yet  I  see  not  how  that  knowledge  and  conviction 
will  of  itself  make  me,  or  any  man,  strong  in  faith.  Very 
true,  0  friend.  To  believe  that  God  is  omnipotent,  how- 
ever strongly,  with  whatever  full  persuasion,  when  that  belief 
is  the  mere  admission  of  a  dogma  in  theology,  a  general  truth 
or  proposition,  proved  by  reason  and  affirmed  in  Scripture ;  so 
to  believe  and  be  fully  persuaded  and  assured  that  what  God 
has  promised  he  is  able  also  to  perform  ;  will  go  but  a  little 
way  towards  strengthening  or  establishing  you  in  that  faith 
which  glorifies  God.  But  let  me  again  remind  you  that  the 
faith  in  question  is  believing  God  ;  not  believing  something 
about  God,  but  believing  God.  It  is  a  personal  dealing  of  God 
with  you,  and  of  you  with  God.  He  and  you  come  together ; 
he  to  speak,  you  to  hear ;  he  to  promise,  you  to  believe  ;  you 
to  ask,  he  to  give. 


122  FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD. 

Ah  !  in  that  view  it  is  something,  it  is  much,  it  is  every- 
thing, to  he  fully  persuaded  that  what  he  has  promised  he 
is  ahle  also  to  perform  :  and  that,  at  the  very  moment  when 
God  is  dealing  with  you,  and  you  with  God  ;  and  with  refer- 
ence to  the  very  matter  about  which  God  is  dealing  with 
you,  and  you  with  God  ;  he  that  matter  what  it  may,  per- 
taining to  your  own  acceptance  and  peace,  or  growth  in 
grace  and  deliverance  from  evil ;  or  to  the  conversion  and 
salvation  and  well-being  of  those  you  love  ;  or  to  the  advance- 
ment of  the  cause  you  have  at  heart.  Whatever  it  may  be 
that  comes  up,  in  this  real  personal  dealing  of  God  with  you 
and  of  you  with  God ;  whatever  on  his  part  in  the  way  of 
admonition,  or  correction,  or  discovery,  or  encouragement,  or 
consolation  ;  whatever  on  your  part  of  sin  and  weakness 
and  want  and  woe :  it  is  a  blessed  thing  to  remember 
that  it  is  the  Almighty  who  speaks  to  you  ;  that  it  is  the 
Almighty  who  bids  you  speak  to  him?  0  ye  of  little  faith, 
wherefore  do  you  doubt?  Is  anything  too  hard  for  him  who 
asks  you  to  believe  him  ?  Is  anything  impossible  with  him  1 
When  it  is  with  him  and  with  his  promises  that  you  are 
dealing,  can  you  ask  or  expect  anything  too  great,  or  too 
high? 

Oil !  come,  my  brother,  be  confronted  with  thy  God,  face  to 
face  with  him.  Be  alone  with  thy  God  ;  Jesus  bringing  thee 
near  to  him ;  the  Spirit  moving  between  thy  God  and  thee. 
How  canst  thou  then  and  there,  here  and  now,  best  honour 
him  and  give  him  glory  1  How  but  by  being  fully  persuaded, 
and  in  thy  dealings  with  him  proceeding  on  the  full  per- 
suasion, that  what  he  promises  he  is  able  also  to  perform  1 
Eemember  that  it  is  with  none  other  than  the  Omnipotent 
that  thou  art  invited  to  be  at  home  ;  it  is  in  none  other  than 
the  Omnipotent  that  thou  art  called  to  confide.  Take  any 
promise  of  his  within  the  range  of  this  blessed  book.  Take 
it  in  its  highest  reach  and  widest  sweep.     Plead  it  for  thyself 


FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD.  123 

and  thine.  Plead  it  for  himself  and  his.  Plead  it,  in  the 
full  persuasion  that  no  difficulties  such  as  sense  might  consider 
can  stand  in  the  way  of  its  accomplishment ;  for  what  he  has 
promised,  what  he  promises,  he  is  able  also  to  perform.  Be 
strong  in  this  faith,  giving  glory  to  God. 

For  really,  after  all,  it  is  faith  in  God's  power  that  most 
glorifies  him  ;  it  is  distrust  of  his  power  which  lies  at  the  root 
of  most  of  the  unbelief  that  is  so  dishonouring  to  him.  Especi- 
ally is  this  the  case  sometimes  with  earnest  souls ;  souls  that 
would  be  ashamed  of  calling  in  question  the  willingness  of  God 
to  meet  their  case  ;  but  yet  somehow  harbour  the  fear  of  their 
case  being  so  bad  that  even  God  cannot  meet  it.  "  If  thou 
canst  do  anything,"  we  are  apt  to  say,  with  the  afflicted  father. 
Let  us  ponder  the  gracious  answer,  "  If  thou  canst  believe,  all 
things  are  possible  to  him  that  believeth."  And  let  us  enter 
into  the  spirit  of  the  gracious  reply,  "  Lord,  I  believe,  help 
thou  mine  unbelief." 

In  conclusion,  let  me  beseech  you  to  lay  to  heart  the 
ground  on  which  the  duty  of  believing,  and  believing  strongly, 
is  here  put.  It  is  that  it  gives  glory  to  God.  It  is  not  that 
it  gives  peace  to  the  conscience,  and  joy  to  the  heart,  and 
salvation  to  the  soul ;  but  that  it  gives  glory  to  God.  To  be 
weak  in  faith  is  not  merely  to  miss  or  mar  a  privilege,  but  to 
commit  a  sin  ;  not  merely  to  injure  yourselves,  but  to  dis- 
honour the  God  whom  you  are  bound  to  glorify.  It  is  an 
insult  and  offence  to  him.  To  be  dwelling  on  objections, 
hindrances,  difficulties,  as  mountains  standing  in  the  way  of 
his  free  word  of  promise  ;  to  be  distrusting  his  ability  to 
sweep  them  all  away,  and  make  his  word  of  promise  good  ; — 
can  anything  be  imagined  more  fitted  to  afi'ront  the  Almighty 
God,  the  Amen,  the  faithful,  true,  and  loving  Jehovah  1 
Is  it  not  literally  and  truly  making  him  a  liar  ?  0  friends  ! 
beware  of  so  great  a  sin.  Think  not  that  doubt,  hesitancy, 
uncertainty,  whether  as  regards  your  own  acceptance  of  his 


124  FAITH  GLORIFYING  GOD. 

mercy,  or  as  regards  your  giving  yourselves  to  his  service,  and 
becoming  fellow-workers  with  him  for  the  good  of  others, 
can  ever  be  looked  upon  by  him  in  any  other  light  than  as 
doing  him  the  greatest  possible  dishonour  ;  refusing  to  believe 
his  testimony  ;  in  plain  terms,  giving  him  the  lie  !  You  may 
fancy  that  there  is  humility  in  it ;  that  your  bashfulness  and 
timidity  have  a  certain  air  of  becoming  self-abasement.  You 
feel  your  own  unworthiness  and  unsteadfastness  so  deeply 
that  you  dare  not  venture  to  be  too  confident  or  to  presume  ! 
Presume  ! — The  presumption  is  all  the  other  way  !  The  in- 
tolerable presumption  is  to  refuse  to  take  God  at  his  word, 
and  believe  that  he  means  what  he  says  when  he  bears  this 
testimony  that  he  giveth  you  eternal  life,  and  that  this  life  is 
in  his  Son  ;  and  when  he  adds  the  assurance  that  his  grace  is 
sufficient  for  you.  It  is  presumption  most  dishonouring  to 
the  Lord,  in  the  face  of  that  assurance,  to  be  considering  any 
thorn  in  the  flesh,  however  sharp,  or  doubting  that  strength 
of  his  which  is  made  perfect  in  weakness.  Brethren,  be 
clothed  with  humility.  And  that  you  may  be  clothed  with 
humility,  be  not  faithless  but  believing.  Be  strong  in  faith, 
giving  glory  to  God. 


ENDURING  AS  SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE  ONE.         125 


VII. 

ENDURING  AS  SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE  ONE. 

"  By  faith  he  forsook  Egj^pt,  not  fearing  the  wrath  of  the  king  :  for  he 
endured,  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible." — Hebrews  xi.  27. 

This  is  said  of  Moses  with  reference  to  the  second  instance 
of  his  faith  here  celebrated.  The  first  was  a  very  searching 
trial  and  signal  triumph  of  faith ;  all  the  more  because  the  event 
entailed  deep  disappointment  and  prolonged  delay.  Now,  after 
forty  years  of  exile,  he  has  again  taken  his  stand  as  Israel's 
champion.  Now  he  finally  forsakes  Egypt.  He  stands 
before  Pharaoh  for  the  last  time.  Till  now,  there  has  been 
room  for  hope  of  some  adjustment.  The  tyrant  has  shown 
repeated  signs  of  relenting.  But  now,  all  that  is  over. 
"  The  Lord  hardened  Pharaoh's  heart,  and  he  would  not  let 
them  go.  And  Pharaoh  said  unto  him,  Get  thee  from  me  ; 
take  heed  to  thyself ;  for  in  that  day  thou  seest  my  face, 
thou  shalt  die.  And  Moses  said,  Thou  hast  spoken  well,  I 
will  see  thy  face  no  more  "  (Exod.  x.  27) .  So  Moses  endured. 
He  did  not  abandon  his  purpose  of  leading  Israel  out  of 
Egypt.  He  did  not  fear  the  wrath  of  the  king,  whose  hosts, 
as  he  could  not  but  foresee,  might  yet  pursue  the  fugitives 
with  all  but  resistless  power,  and  overwhelm  them  in  ruin 
before  a  place  of  safety  could  be  reached.  He  endured,  as 
seeing,  not  Pharaoh  but  one  greater  than  Pharaoh  ;  him  who 
is  invisible, 

I  propose  to  consider,  I.  what  this  quasi-vision,  this  seeing, 


126         ENDURING  AS  SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE  ONE. 

as  it  were,  in  a  sense,  him  Avho  is  invisible,  really  is  ;  and 
II.  how  it  helps  one  who  believes  to  endure.  I  say  one  who 
beheves.  For  it  was  by  faith  that  Moses  endured,  as  seeing 
him  who  is  invisible. 

I.  What,  then,  is  this  virtual  seeing  of  him  who  is  in- 
visible ?     Jesus  says  of  him  that  loveth  him,  "  I  will  love 
him,  and   will   manifest   myself  unto  him."      How?  asks 
Thomas.     "  If  a  man  love  me,  he  will  keep  my  words,"  is  the 
reply.     So,  while  the  world  sees  me  no  more,  ye  see  me  ;  the 
Holy  Ghost  teaching  you  aU  things,  and  bringing  all  things 
to  your  remembrance,  whatsoever  I  have  said  unto  you ;  all 
my  sayings  which  you  lovingly  keep.     May  not  this  conver- 
sation throw  some  light  upon  the  inquiry — What  is  this  see- 
ing 1      Moses  seeing,  as  it  were,  or  feeling  as  if  he  saw, 
him  who  is  invisible  1      One  thing,  at  all  events,  is  very 
clear.     The  object  of  it  is  a  person,  a  real  and  living  person. 
And  it  is  a  person  who  has  entered  mto  personal  dealing  with 
Moses :    a   person   whom   Moses  personally   knows ;   whose 
personal  acquaintance  Moses  has  made.     That  is  a  vital  point. 
It  has  been  made  matter  of  doubt  how  far  it  is  possible  for 
man's  finite  understanding  to  take  in  any  clear  or  distinct 
conception  of  Infinite  Deity.     The  doubt  may  be  partly  met 
by  an  appeal  to  what  reason  and  conscience  teach,  as  they 
point  inferentially  to  the  wisdom  and  power  of  the  Creator, 
and  the  sovereignty  of  the  Euler  and  Judge.     But  it  is  when 
he  speaks  himself,  directly  and  by  word  of  mouth,  verbally 
and  articulately,  that  he  can  best  be  recognised  as  a  real 
living  person,  with  whom  personal  ties  may  be  formed,  and 
personal  intercourse  may  be  held  intelligently.    Hence,  accord- 
ingly,   from  the  beginning,    God   has  spoken.      His   word 
came  forth  ;  the  Eternal  Word  which  was  with  God,  and  was 
God.     "  No  man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time,  the  only-be- 
gotten Son,  who  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  he  hath  de- 


ENDURING  AS  SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE  ONE.         127 

clared  him."  He  has  been  declaring  him  from  the  first ;  for 
his  goings  forth  have  been  from  of  old.  He  has  been  going 
forth  as  the  Word,  declaring  the  Father ;  not  in  dim  guesses 
of  reason  merely,  but  in  clear,  distinct,  articulate  utterances 
of  revelation.  He  has  been  thus,  from  the  beginning,  con- 
versing with  men.  So  he  conversed  with  Adam  and  the 
first  fathers  of  our  race.  So  he  conversed  with  ISToah,  and 
his  seed  after  him.  So  he  conversed  with  Abraham,  Isaac, 
Jacob,  and  all  the  patriarchs.  So  he  conversed  with  Moses. 
Let  me  trace  some  of  these  successive  manifestations  or 
revelations  of  him  whose  goings  forth  have  been  from  of  old  ; 
that  I  may  show  how  personal  they  all  are ;  and  how  they 
are  all  verbal ;  how  it  is  a  person  Avho  reveals  himself,  and 
that  in  speech. 

It  does  not  appear  that  this  invisible  One  ever  made 
himself  actually  visible  to  our  first  parents,  either  before  or 
after  the  fall.  But  they  heard  his  voice.  They  heard  it  as 
aii^extemal^vaice ;  no^t^a^v^ice^inJiiemjner^lyJmLiLJc^^ 
them.  Imagine  the  effect  of  their  so  hearing  that  voice  for 
the  first  time.  They  have  opened  their  eyes  in  Eden,  with  a 
glorious  scene  or  panorama  all  round.  Endlessly  varied  forms 
of  beauty,  and  of  living  beauty,  are  on  every  side.  JSTew 
colours,  new  outlines,  colours  of  richest  hue,  outlines  of 
rarest  grace,  meet  them  at  every  step.  An  exuberance 
of  animal  life  and  joy  bursts  on  them  at  every  moment. 
And  over  and  around  them  is  the  infinite  vault  of  the  sunlit 
or  starlit  heaven.  Their  souls  are  ravished  with  a  tumultu- 
ous sense  of  vague  delight.  But  it  is  unreflecting.  Or  if  re- 
flection comes,  it  causes  a  grievous  want  to  be  felt.  There  is 
dead  and  blank  silence,  save  for  nature's  dreamy  sounds  of 
sighing  winds,  and  the  voices  of  birds  and  beasts  ;  and  the  all 
but  mute  converse  of  their  own  living  and  congenial  hearts. 
There  is  a  longing  for  some  living  person,  to  tell  them  what 
all  this  may  mean. 


128  ENDURING  AS  SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE  ONE. 

Hark  !  A  new  sound  breaks  on  the  ear.  Speech,  of  the 
articulate  sort  with  Avhich  they  are  themselves  endowed,  is 
heard.  It  does  not  come  from  either  of  their  mouths ;  nor 
from  the  mouth  of  any  creature.  From  without,  from  above, 
from  beside  them,  it  is  unmistakably  and  unequivocally  heard. 
It  is  a  person  speaking  to  them ;  speaking  to  them  personally. 
They  recognise  him  as  a  person,  speaking  to  them ;  just  as 
distinctly  and  certainly  as  they  recognise  one  another  as  per- 
sons, when  they  speak  to  one  another.  And  he  says  :  I  am 
the  Lord  thy  God ;  thou  shalt  love  me,  and  keep  my  com- 
mandments. And  this  is  my  commandment :  "  Thou  shalt 
not  eat  of  this  tree  ;  in  the  day  thou  eatest  thou  shalt  die." 
Is  it  not  to  them  now  as  if  they  personally  saw  him  1  Is  it 
not  a  virtual  seeing  of  him  ?  And  ever  after,  as  long  as  they 
kept  their  innocency,  could  they  fail  to  recognise  and  identify 
this  Person  when  they  heard  his  voice,  some  articulate  voice 
of  his,  as  he  walked  in  the  garden  in  the  cool  of  the  day  1 
They  did  assuredly  so  recognise  and  identify  him  on  the  day 
of  their  fall.  They  died,  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible,  when 
the  word  "  cursed"  came  from  divine  lips  !  Ah  !  might  they 
not  have  endured,  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible,  and  so  con- 
tinued to  live  1 

After  the  fall,  this  invisible  person  continued  to  speak 
thus  personally  to  our  first  parents,  and  to  their  descend- 
ants. Occasionally,  though  rarely,  he  made  himself  visible  ; 
in  human  guise  ;  as  if  in  exceptional  anticipation  of  his  actual 
coming  in  the  flesh.  For  the  most  part,  however,  he  simply 
spoke.  How  he  spoke  I  do  not  presume  to  define  ;  audibly, 
or  in  a  whisper ;  openly,  or  in  a  vision.  But  that  he  did 
speak  I  believe  and  am  assured.  !N"ow  I  try  to  put  myself  in 
the  place  of  any  one  of  those  Old  Testament  worthies  to  whom 
he  thus  personally  spoke  ;  the  child  Samuel,  for  instance.  I 
cannot  but  think  that  one  thus  favoured,  even  once,  must  have 
felt  ever  after  as  if  he  had  seen  the  person  speaking  to  him, 


ENDURING  AS  SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE  ONE.  129 

and  actually  talked  with  him  face  to  face?  He  might  not 
venture  to  make  a  picture  of  him,  even  on  the  canvas  of  his 
own  imagination  :  but  I  think  he  would  have  the  impression 
of  having  seen  him  nevertheless.  His  having  heard  him 
speaking,  asking  and  answering  questions,  carrjdng  on  a  con- 
versation, as  distinctly  and  indubitably  as  he  ever  heard 
his  own  brother,  or  any  friend  or  common  acquaintance  do  ; 
must  have  made  him  feel,  especially  in  any  moment  of 
emergency,  as  if  he  had  really  seen  before,  and  were  now  see- 
ing again,  the  divine  speaker  ;  present  now  as  then  ;  speaking 
now  as  then  ? 

Of  course,  it  is  but  few  of  those  who  walk  with  God 
who  have  been  thus  favoured.     They  were  necessarily  few, 
from  the  first.     The  general  body  of  the  Lord's  people  must 
be  content  to  take  what  he  says  at  second  hand,  from  the 
reports  of   patriarchs  and  prophets ;  or  by  hereditary  tradi- 
tion ;   by  psalms   and  songs ;    or  ultimately   by  the  surer 
method  of  transmission  in  written  documents  and  printed 
books.     If  that  is  my  position,  how  am  I  to  be  as  one  seeing 
him  who  is  invisible?    Nay,  there  is  really  no  practical  differ- 
ence here.     It  is  the  same  exercise  of  faith  in  both  cases.    In 
both  cases  alike  and  equally  there  is  an  "  as  if,"  or  "  as  if 
were  ;"  not  literal  seeing  ;  but  "  as"  seeing.    Eut  the  "  as  if," 
or  "as  it  tcere"  is  not  pure  fiction  or  fancy  in  either  case.    A_ 
real  fact  underlies  and  ujoholds  it.     The  actual,  present  per- 
sonality apprehended  and  identified  through  speech,  ig_jioJi 
icl^l,    but_  real.      It  is   so   in   both  cases   alike.       Samuel 
hears  the  Lord  speaking  to  him.    He  tells  Eli  what  the  Lord 
said.     It  is  the  same  thing  to  Eli  as  if  he  had  heard  the  Lord 
speaking  to  himself ;  the  same,  not  merely  as  regards  the  sub- 
stance or  matter  of  the  Lord's  word ;  but  as  to  the  impres- 
sion or  apprehension  of  its  being  the  Lord's  word  to  him  ;  to 
him   personally   and   presently ;   here   and   now.     To   you, 
Samuel,  hearing  the  Lord  speaking  to  you  ;  to  me,  Eli,  when 

E 


130         ENDURING  AS  SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE  ONE. 

you  tell  me  what  the  Lord  said  to  you  ;  to  me  as  truly  as  to 
you,  the  unseen  speaker  becomes  a  real  and  living  person.  I 
feel  that  I  personally  know  him,  as  I  know  you  whom  I  talk 
with  about  him  every  day.  I  seem  to  know  him  by  sight, 
as  I  know  you  by  sight ;  when  you  and  I  meet  and  converse 
together.  And  both  of  us  equally  and  alike  know  him  by 
converse,  growing  into  a  sort  of  sight.  It  is  altogether  matter 
of  faith  to  both  of  us.  It  is  faith  coming  by  hearing,  and 
growing,  I  repeat,  into  a  sort  of  sight. 

But  the  faith  which  thus  comes,  and  thus  grows,  is 
spiritual  and  supernatural,  as  is  its  object.  It  is  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  This  is  an  indispensable  condition,  if  I  am  to  have 
the  unseen  revealer,  the  unseen  speaker,  in  living  personality 
before  me,  beside  me,  with  me ;  as  friend  with  friend ;  if  it 
is  to  be  as  if  I  were  indeed  seeing  him  who  is  invisible.  I 
might  literally  hear  him,  audibly  and  articulately  speaking 
to  me,  without  his  even  thus  speaking  to  me  having  power 
to  give  me  any  such  vivid  sight  of  him.  The  voice  in  my 
dreaming  ear  might  melt  away.  It  might  be  unwelcome,  and 
never  reach  my  heart.  It  might  be  a  pleasant  song,  whose 
echoes  soon  pass.  There  must  be  wrought  in  me,  between 
him  and  me,  some  sympathy  ;  some  good  understanding  and 
fellow-feeling  about  the  matter  spoken  of.  There  must  be 
established  between  him  and  me  some  personal  relation  of 
mutual  confidence  and  amity.  There  must,  in  a  word,  be 
formed  a  certain  close  unity  of  faith  working  by  love.  Then 
will  that  quasi  vision,  "  as  seeing"  be  realised ;  that  vivid 
sense  and  keen  grasp  of  "  my  Lord  and  my  God,"  as  person- 
ally present  to  my  eager  gaze,  my  touch,  my  embrace,  wliich 
compensates,  and  far  more  than  compensates,  for  my  never 
having  set  on  him  my  bodily  eye.  It  is  the  Spirit,  giving  me 
the  faith  which  he,  who  is  my  Lord  and  my  God,  preferred 
to  the  conviction  of  actual  sense,  and  sight,  and  touch ;  when 
he  said  to  Thomas,  "  Because  thou  hast  seen  me  thou  hast 


ENDURING  AS  SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE  ONE.         131 

believed  :  blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen,  and  yet  have 
believed"  (John  xx.  29) ;  believed  as  seeing  him  who  is  in- 
visible. 

The  incarnation,  issuing  in  the  resurrection  and  ascen- 
sion, facilitates  this  exercise  of  faith.  It  must  have  done  so 
in  the  case  of  those  who  saw  the  Lord  in  the  body.  They 
might  w^ell  feel,  and  live,  ever  after,  as  if  still  seeing  him  who 
had  become  invisible.  But  Paul  had  no  such  advantage,  any 
more  than  Moses  had.  He  saw  the  risen  Lord ;  but  only 
according  to  the  ancient  fashion,  in  the  blaze  of  the  Shechinah 
glory,  and  in  visions  by  night.  Even  that  amount  of  actual 
seeing  you  have  not.  There  are,  however,  considerations 
which  may  counterbalance  this  drawback  and  disadvantage ; 
such  as  these  three. 

1.  Was  ever  man  portrayed  so  graphically  as  Jesus  is  in 
those  wonderful  biographies  of  the  four  Gospels ;  the  joint 
productions  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  the  Evangelists ;  divinely 
inspired,  and  yet  so  intensely  and  livingly  human?  His 
frame  and  features,  what  he  was  like  as  to  his  outer  man, 
his  gait  and  carriage,  you  have  no  means  of  guessing.  But 
otherwise,  you  have  him  all  before  you.  Lo  !  he  stands,  with 
outstretched  arms,  clasping  babes  to  his  bosom.  Hark !  he 
speaks  a  word  in  season  to  that  weary  one,  "  Thy  sins  be  for- 
given thee  ! "  See  !  a  funeral  procession  stopped,  and  a  widow's 
heart  made  to  leap  for  joy  !  Come  !  look  into  that  dark 
chamber  ;  go  to  that  fresh  grave  I  Jesus  weeps  !  Yes  ;  you 
follow  him  as  he  walks  by  Galilee's  lake  and  in  the  cities  of 
Judah.  Then,  coming  on  to  the  close  ;  the  silence  before 
his  judges,  the  eye  looking  upon  Peter,  the  tender  word  from 
the  cross  to  John  and  Mary,  the  prayer  for  his  murderers,  the 
strangely  calm  converse  with  the  repenting  thief,  the  cry  of 
desertion,  the  closing  sigh  of  repose  ;  you  see  and  hear  it  all } 
It  is  all  to  you  as  it  Avas  to  the  very  eye-witnesses  and  ear- wit- 
nesses themselves  ;  as  if  you,  as  well  as  they,  had  seen  it  all. 


132  ENDURING  AS   SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE  ONE. 

2.  You  have  the  full  benefit  of  sharing  with  them  in  that 
better  seeing  of  their  Master  which  they  obtained  when  his 
own  promise  was  fulfilled,  and  on  his  departure  the  other 
Comforter  came.  They  themselves  impart  to  you  all  that 
they  were  then  taught  as  to  the  high  and  deep  meanings, 
and  the  manifold  bearings  on  the  character  and  government  of 
God,  of  that  human  history,  that  human  experience,  which, 
while  they  were  eye-witnesses  and  ear-witnesses  of  it,  was  in 
many  particulars  so  incomprehensible.  It  is  as  illuminated 
by  all  the  light  of  the  insight  which  they  got  after  Pentecost 
into  Christ's  fulfilment  of  all  righteousness  :  into  his  honouring 
the  law  by  his  voluntary  and  vicarious  obedience,  and  his 
satisfying  the  law  by  his  atoning  sufferings  and  death ;  that 
you  now  read,  as  they  wrote  them,  the  sayings  and  doings  of 
the  great  Eedeemer.  He  is  set  forth  speaking  words  of 
wisdom  and  grace,  doing  deeds  of  mercy  and  love,  before  your 
eyes  ;  he  is  set  forth  crucified  before  your  eyes ;  not  merely 
as  he  appeared  to  them  when  he  was  with  them ;  but  over 
and  above  that,  as  he  appeared  to  them  after  he  was  gone  ; 
with  the  new  spiritual  apprehension  to  which  they  then 
attained  of  the  whole  plan  and  purpose  of  his  ministry,  the 
entire  scope  and  efficacy  of  his  mission,  and  especially  of  its 
awful  close.  It  is  as  having  died  and  risen  again,  not  now 
dead,  but  alive  for  evermore,  that  he  speaks  to  you.  And 
you  hearing,  not  his  apostles,  but  through  and  with  them 
himself,  seem  to  see  him  who  is  invisible. 

3.  For  it  is  not  to  be  overlooked  that  the  same  Spirit  who 
taught  and  moved  them  to  realise  the  Lord's  presence  as  if 
they  still  both  heard  and  saw  him,  is  dwelling  and  working 
in  you.  To  you,  as  to  them,  he  testifies  of  Christ ;  taking  of 
what  is  his  and  showing  it  to  you.  He  brings  to  your  re- 
membrance the  things  which  Christ  has  said,  and  opens  them 
up  to  you,  and  applies  them  to  your  case,  whatever  it  may  be  ; 
so  pointedly,  so  vividly,  that  you  gaze  into  his  face  as  you  say 


ENDURING  AS  SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE  ONE.         133 

"  Speak,  Lord  !  for  thy  servant  heareth."  Thus  he  really  does 
what  some  profane  dreamers  or  deceivers  profess  to  do.  They 
pretend,  by  their  mystic  or  magic  legerdemain  of  clairvoyance, 
to  establish  a  relation  between  you  and  some  departed  saint 
or  sinner,  in  virtue  of  which  it  shall  be  to  you  as  if  you  saw 
the  man  now  and  talked  with  him  face  to  face.  It  is  an 
impious  mockery  of  the  office  and  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
They  say,  but  it  is  a  lie,  that  the  spirit  whom  they  evoke 
will  tell  you  news  of  the  unseen  world ;  of  heaven  and  of 
hell,  if  there  be  a  hell.  That  is  more  than  the  Holy  Ghost 
himself  undertakes  to  do ;  more  than,  according  to  any  promise, 
I  can  expect  him  to  do,  when  he  reveals  Christ  to  me  and  in 
me.  He  bids  me  read  and  ponder  the  record  of  Christ  which 
he  has  inspired.  He  has  nothing  more,  nothing  else,  to  say. 
But  he  brings  that  record  and  my  experience  very  closely 
together,  and  welds  them  in  one ;  so  that,  by  means  of  that 
record,  and  using  its  contents  as  materials,  I  have  real  present 
converse  with  Christ  now ;  almost,  in  a  sense,  by  word  of 
mouth,  as  those  who  lived  with  him  had  in  that  olden  time.  Is 
not  that  something  like  seeing  him  as  he  is  1  Is  not  the  Holy 
Spirit  true  and  faithful  in  thus  revealing  Christ  1  He  loves 
him  too  well,  and  he  loves  you  too  well,  to  interpose  between 
Christ  and  you.  He  does  not  speak  of  himself.  He  does  not 
glorify  himself.  He  does  not  hinder  Christ  from  himself 
manifesting  himself  to  you.  It  is  his  very  office  and  business ; 
it  is  his  joy,  to  remove  every  obstacle  of  carnality  and  unbelief, 
and  hardness  of  heart,  and  blindness  of  mind,  on  your  part ; 
just  in  order  that  Christ  may  manifest  himself  to  you,  as  he 
does  not  unto  the  world  ;  that  you  may  see  hira,  though  the 
world  sees  him  not,  that  you  may  be  as  seeing  him  who  is 
invisible.  He  brings  Christ  and  you  together,  face  to  face, 
that  you  may  speak  to  Christ,  and  Christ  may  speak  to  you, 
to  your  heart.  Lo  !  Jesus  ;  very  near  to  you,  at  your  ear,  at 
your  elbow;  able  to  speak,  now  actually  speaking,  to  your 


^ 


134         ENDUEING  AS  SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE  ONE. 

heart !  Whatever  your  mood  of  mind  may  be,  whatever  your 
trial,  whatever  your  need  :  look  out !  look  up  !  as  seeing  him 
who  is  invisible.  Catch  his  eye  !  Feel  his  touch  !  Look  ! 
He  smiles ;  or  perhaps  frowns,  and  smiles  again.  Listen  ! 
Did  ever  man  speak  as  this  man  is  speaking  to  you  now?  It 
is  no  dream.  It  is  a  blessed  reality.  You  gaze  on  his  face, 
you  lean  on  his  bosom,  you  whisper  in  his  ear,  as  John  the 
beloved  did  at  the  supper.  You  rest  and  rejoice,  as  seeing 
him  who  is  invisible. 

11.  This  joy  of  the  Lord  is  your  strength,  JSTot  only  at  the 
communion  table  do  you  rest,  but  in  the  field  of  toil  or  of 
battle  you  endure,  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible.  So  Christ 
himself,  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  endured.  The  secret  of  his 
endurance  was,  that  with  the  eye  of  faith  he  always  saw  the 
Father.  In  the  utmost  depths,  under  the  darkest  clouds,  he 
was  always  as  one  seeing  the  unseen  Father ;  seeing  him 
personally  present  with  him  ;  personally  well  affected  towards 
him,  and  well  pleased  in  him  ;  even  when  for  our  sins  he  was 
chastening  him  sore,  "I  have  set  the  Lord  always  before 
me ;  because  he  is  at  my  right  hand,  I  shall  not  be  moved  " 
(Psalm  xvi.  8),  Thus  Jesus  himself  endured,  as  seeing  the 
Father  who  is  invisible.  And  now  he  says  to  you,  "  He 
that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the  Father,"  and  is  therefore  in 
the  very  same  position  in  which  I  was  when  I  endured  as 
seeing  the  unseen  Father.  For  when  the  Holy  Spirit  opens 
the  eye  of  your  faith ;  it  is  not  I  alone  who  will  manifest 
myself  to  you,  but  the  Father  also.  What  a  source  of 
strength  !  There  is  a  triple  rope  to  hold  you  fast  and  firm  ! 
The  Holy  Ghost  shows  you  Christ ;  Christ  shows  you  the 
Father !  The  Holy  Ghost  strengthens  you  to  endure  as 
seeing  the  unseen  Saviour,  even  as  he  strengthened  him  to 
endure  as  seeing  the  unseen  Father !  It  is  in  the  felt  and 
realised  presence  of  a  divine  person,  unseen  in  one  sense,  but 


ENDURING  AS  SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE  ONE.         135 

in  another  virtually  and  vividly  seen,  that  your  strength  to 
endure  lies.  And  he  is  to  be  seen  by  you,  not  merely  as  an 
object  of  contemplation  in  a  leisure  hour;  but  as,  in  the  time 
of  danger,  standing  beside  you  ;  at  your  right  hand  ;  holding 
you  up  ;  speaking  to  you  ;  conversing  with  you  ;  calling  you 
by  name,  and  bidding  you  be  strong  and  of  a  good  courage. 

Moses,  in  Pharaoh's  presence,  felt  and  was  sure  that  he 
was  not  alone.  There  was  one  at  bis  side  whom  Pharaoh  did 
not  see,  and  he  did  not  see.  So  far  as  appears,  he  had  never 
seen  him,  except  in  symbol,  as  at  the  burning  bush.  He  had 
never  seen  him,  as  Abraham  and  others  had  seen  him,  sitting 
at  meat  and  exchanging  customary  civilities.  But  Moses 
knew  this  unseen  Saviour  of  Israel  by  previous  personal 
acquaintance  and  intercourse,  as  a  man  knows  his  friend. 
The  Lord  had  spoken  to  him,  mouth  to  mouth.  It  was  as 
good  as  seeing  him  when  he  talked  with  him  at  the  busb. 
And  so  Moses  knows  and  recognises  the  Lord  now ;  as  if  he 
saw  him  now  at  his  right  hand.     Therefore  he  is  not  moved. 

The  three  confessors  whom  the  tyrant  cast  bound  into  the 
burning  fiery  furnace,  heated  seven  times,  endured  as  seeing 
him  who  is  invisible.  Nebuchadnezzar  indeed  saw  four  men, 
instead  of  three,  loose,  in  the  midst  of  the  fire  ;  the  form  of 
the  fourth  being  like  the  Son  of  God.  His  eyes  were  opened  ; 
as  the  eyes  of  the  servant  of  Elisha  were  opened,  in  answer  to 
his  master's  prayer,  to  see  the  mountain  full  of  horses  and 
cbariots  of  fire  round  about  Elisha.  The  prophet  himself  did 
not  see  this  great  sight ;  the  angel  of  the  Lord  thus  encamping, 
with  so  mighty  a  host,  around  him.  It  was  not  he,  but  his 
servant,  who  needed  that  satisfactory  assurance  by  actual, 
literal  sight.  The  prophet  walked  by  faith,  and  endured  as 
seeing  him  who  is  invisible.  So  also  did  the  three  Jewish 
youths.  It  was  not  they,  but  their  persecutor,  who  required 
to  have  actual,  ocular  demonstration  of  the  Son  of  God  being 
present  with  them.     They  had  known  him  personally  before. 


136         ENDURING  AS   SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE  ONE. 

and  they  knew  and  recognised  him  now.     They  endured  as 
seeing  him  who  is  invisible. 

The  Lord  would  have  you  to  endure,  as  seeing  him  thus 
by  faith,  faith  coming  to  be  all  but  sight ;  in  every  aspect  of 
his  relation  to  you. 

As  your  surety,  to  answer  for  you,  he  would  have  you 
to  see  him,  though  invisible,  at  your  right  hand.  Thus  only 
you  can  endure,  when  you  have  to  stand  either  before  God, 
or  before  man. 

You  have  to  stand  before  God,  You  are  confused, 
ashamed,  undone.  A  sense  of  sin  unnerves  you.  Old  sins, 
never  enough  repented  of ;  new  and  fresh  sins,  with  all  the 
aggravations  of  divine  teaching  and  experienced  mercy,  must 
rush  in  upon  you.  You  tremble,  and  are  at  the  point  to  sink 
and  die.  But  endure  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible.  See 
him  near  you,  close  beside  you  ;  sprinkling  you  with  his  own 
blood ;  clothing  you  with  his  own  righteousness  ;  strength- 
ening you  by  his  own  Spirit ;  and  assuring  you  that  he  is 
here  to  answer  for  you  in  the  judgment  to  the  very  utter- 
most. 

Standing  again  before  your  fellow-men,  to  testify  and 
plead  ;  to  defend  yourself,  to  commend  Christ,  to  persuade 
them  ;  you  are  disconcerted  and  embarrassed.  How  weak 
are  you,  and  how  vacillating  !  How  slow  of  speech  and  full 
of  misgivings !  And  then,  how  entirely  are  you  at  their  mercy  ! 
If  they  knew  all,  if  they  knew  you  as  well  as  you  know 
yourself,  how  might  they  turn  upon  you  with  the  taunt, 
"  Physician,  heal  thyself  !"  You  feel  as  if  you  could  not  con- 
front or  face  them.  But  still  endure,  as  seeing  beside  you 
him  who  is  invisible.  He  knows  you  better  than  they  can 
know  you  ;  better  than  you  can  know  yourself.  He  knows 
all.  And  knowing  all,  he  will  not  he  ashamed  of  you  before 
the  angels,  if  you  are  not  ashamed  of  him  before  men.  He 
is  at  your  right  hand.     They  who  might  reproach  you  do  not 


ENDURING  AS  SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE  ONE.  137 

see  him.  Pharaoh,  who  would  persecute  you,  does  not  see 
him  :  but  angels  see  him  :  and  you  endure  as  seeing  him  who 
is  invisible. 

As  your  Lord  and  Master,  your  guide  and  example,  he 
would  have  you  to  endure  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible. 
To  endure,  what  1  Whatever  he  may  appoint ;  whatever 
trial  of  your  faitli,  or  patience,  or  love  ;  whatever  sacrifice  of 
self  for  God  or  for  man.  To  endure,  how  1  As  seeing  him 
who  is  invisible  ;  seeing  him,  though  unseen,  beside  you  ;  for 
he  tells  you  how  he,  in  your  circumstances,  would  have  en- 
dured ;  and  how  he  can  and  will  make  you  endure,  as  he 
would  have  endured,  in  the  like  case,  himself.  Is  it  really 
so  1  you  may  ask  with  a  sudden  start.  Yes,  brother  !  That 
is  what  you  have  to  realise  by  faith.  Ah  !  then,  you  may 
well  reply  ;  I  must  needs  be  up  and  doing  ;  doing,  in  speech 
and  action,  as  he  would  himself  do,  were  he  in  my  place  here 
and  now.  He  is  in  my  place  ;  beside  me  in  my  place,  what- 
ever that  place  is.  Well,  therefore,  may  I  endure  in  it  as 
seeing  the  unseen. 

As  your  sympathising  friend  and  elder  brother,  he  would 
have  you  to  endure  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible.  He  is 
the  same  to  you  as  he  was  to  those  who  saw  him  in  the 
flesh.  He  speaks  to  you  as  he  spoke  to  Martha.  He 
weeps  with  you  as  he  wept  with  Mar}^  In  whatever 
scene  or  company  you  may,  he  is  with  you  in  it.  Other- 
wise, it  is  no  scene  or  company  for  you.  But  if  he  is 
with  you  ;  if  you  can  realise  his  being  with  you  ;  in  what- 
ever scene  or  whatever  company  ;  you  may  be  firm  and  fear- 
less on  his  behalf ;  enduring  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible. 
It  may  be  that  you  have  a  very  hard  experience  to  meet ; 
perhaps  one  of  the  hardest  of  human  experiences.  You 
may  have  to  endure,  whether  in  joy  or  soitow,  a  certain  sense 
of  loneliness  ;  the  feeling  of  a  great  blank ;  as  if  you  had 
none  to  sympathise  with  you.     But  still  endure,  as  seeing 


138  ENDUEING  AS  SEEING  THE  INVISIBLE  ONE. 

him  who  is  invisible.  See  him,  though  unseen,  opening  your 
chamber  door,  coming  near  your  couch,  taking  you  kindly  by 
the  hand,  mingling  his  tears  with  yours ;  and  yet  bidding 
you  endure  as  he  endured  :  when,  in  the  days  of  his  flesh,  he 
made  supplication  with  strong  crying  and  tears  unto  him  that 
was  able  to  save  him  from  death,  and  was  heard  in  that  he 
feared.  You  are  not  alone.  He  is  at  your  right  hand  ;  he, 
"  whom,  having  not  seen,  you  love ;  in  whom,  though  now 
you  see  him  not,  yet  believing,  you  rejoice  with  joy  unspeak- 
able, and  full  of  glory." 


THE  SIN   OF  CAEEFULNESS.  139 


VIII. 

THE  SIX  OF  CAREFULNESS. 

"  And  lie  said  unto  his  disciples,  Therefore  I  say  unto  you,  Take  no 
thought  for  your  life,  what  j^e  shall  eat ;  neither  for  the  body,  what 
ye  shall  put  on.  The  life  is  more  than  meat,  and  the  body  is  more 
than  raiment.  Consider  the  ravens  :  for  they  neither  sow  nor  reap  ; 
which  neither  have  storehouse  nor  barn  ;  and  God  feedeth  them  : 
how  much  more  are  j^e  better  than  the  fowls  ?  And  which  of  you 
with  taking  thought  can  add  to  his  stature  one  cubit  ?  If  ye  then 
be  not  able  to  do  that  thing  which  is  least,  wliy  take  ye  thought 
for  the  rest  ?  Consider  the  lilies  how  they  grow  :  they  toil  not, 
they  spin  not ;  and  yet  I  say  unto  you,  that  Solomon  in  all  his 
glory  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these.  If  then  God  so  clothe  the 
grass,  which  is  to-day  in  the  field,  and  to-morrow  is  cast  into  the 
oven  ;  how  much  more  will  he  clothe  you,  0  ye  of  little  faith  ? 
And  seek  not  ye  what  ye  shall  eat,  or  what  ye  shall  drink,  neither 
be  ye  of  doubtful  mind.  For  all  these  things  do  the  nations  of  the 
world  seek  after  :  and  your  Father  knoweth  that  ye  have  need  of 
these  things.  But  rather  seek  ye  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  and  all 
these  things  shall  be  added  unto  you.  Fear  not,  little  flock  ;  for 
it  is  your  Father's  good  pleasure  to  give  you  the  kingdom.  Sell 
that  ye  have,  and  give  alms  ;  provide  yourselves  bags  which  wax 
not  old,  a  treasure  in  the  heavens  that  faileth  not,  where  no  thief 
approacheth,  neither  moth  corrupteth.  For  where  your  treasure  is, 
there  will  your  heart  be  also.  Let  your  loins  be  girded  about,  and 
your  lights  burning  ;  and  ye  yourselves  like  unto  men  that  wait 
for  their  lord,  when  he  will  return  from  the  wedding  ;  that,  when 
he  cometh  and  knocketh,  they  may  open  unto  him  immediately. 
Blessed  are  those  servants,  whom  the  lord  when  he  cometh  shall 
find  watching  :  verily  I  say  unto  you,  that  he  shall  gird  himself, 
and  make  them  to  sit  down  to  meat,  and  will  come  forth  and  serve 


140  THE  SIN   OF  CAREFULNESS. 

them.  And  if  he  shall  come  in  the  second  watch,  or  come  in  the 
third  watch,  and  find  them  so,  blessed  are  those  servants.  And 
this  know,  that  if  the  goodman  of  the  house  had  known  what  hour 
the  thief  would  come,  he  would  have  watched,  and  not  have  suf- 
fered his  house  to  be  broken  through.  Be  ye  therefore  ready  also  : 
for  the  Son  of  man  cometh  at  an  hour  when  ye  think  not." — 
Luke  xii.  22-40. 

There  are  two  forms  or  fashions,  two  kinds  or  modes  of 
worldliness,  covetousness  and  carefulness,  against  both  of 
which  the  Lord  warns  his  hearers  in  this  discourse  (vers. 
13-40).  The  warning  against  covetousness  is  suggested  by 
the  incident  which  gave  occasion  to  the  conversation  (ver.  13). 
One  of  the  company,  the  crowd  or  promiscuous  multitude, 
solicits  his  interposition  as  umpire  in  a  question  of  property 
between  him  and  his  brother.  The  Lord  declines  the  office, 
in  somewhat  summary  if  not  even  sharp  terms  (ver.  14).  Then 
he  gives  the  company  or  crowd  a  lesson  on  the  sin  and  danger 
of  coveting  wealth,  or  counting  upon  it  ;  illustrating  the 
lesson  by  a  parable  (vers.  15-21). 

But  heaping  or  laying  up  treasure  for  oneself,  instead  of 
seeking  to  be  rich  toward  God,  is  not  the  only  way  in  which 
the  love  of  this  present  world  works  and  manifests  itself 
Among  the  wealthy,  that  may  be  its  common  shape  ;  but 
with  the  poor,  who  are  the  majority,  it  must  be  otherwise. 
Still  it  is  the  same  sore  evil  in  either  case.  For  it  is  the  very 
same  spirit  which  in  one  state  of  life  prompts  the  proud  boast 
(ver.  19)  that  in  another  moves  the  anxious  question  (ver.  22), 
"  What  shall  I  eat  ?  What  shall  I  put  on  V  It  is  the  same 
concern  ;  to  have  some  worldly  portion  in  hand,  apart  from 
simple  trust  in  God. 

In  a  society  into  which  not  many  rich  are  called,  it  is  the 
latter  phase  of  this  fault  that  may  be  expected  for  the  most 
part  to  prevail.  And  accordingly,  when  he  proceeds  to  deal 
with  that,  the  Lord  turns  from  the  general  crowd  of  listeners 


THE  SIN  OF  CAREFULNESS.  141 

to  his  own  immediate  followers  (ver.  22).  It  is  his  disciples 
he  addresses ;  and  he  addresses  them  as  his  disciples.  His 
whole  reasoning  with  them  is  founded,  not  merely  on  the  fact 
of  their  being  professedly  his  disciples,  but  on  the  assumption 
of  their  being  so  in  reality  as  well  as  by  profession.  So  re- 
garding them  as  his  believing  people,  he  urges  four  arguments 
against  their  being  guilty  of  the  sin  of  anxious  carefulness  or 
thoughtfuluess  about  their  earthly  condition  ;  about  worldly 
things  (vers.  23-32).  And  he  gives  two  tests  by  which  they 
may  try  themselves  as  to  their  freedom  from  this  sin  ;  or 
rather  perhaps  two  practical  directions  as  to  the  best  and 
most  effectual  way  of  securing  their  freedom  from  it  (vers. 
33-36). 

I.  The  Lord's  first  argument  is  founded  on  an  appeal  to 
creation,  (ver.  23).  He  asks  you,  his  disciples,  to  consider 
God  simply  as  your  Maker.  He  is  the  author  of  your  being  ; 
the  source  and  fountain  of  your  life  ;  the  former  of  your 
bodies.  Ask  yourselves,  he  says,  if  he  who  gave  you  the  life 
may  not  be  trusted  for  the  food  needful  to  sustain  the  life  he 
gave  ?  if  he  who  formed  for  you  the  body  may  not  be  trusted 
for  the  raiment  needed  for  its  clothing  1 

It  is  an  argument  a  fortiori,  from  the  stronger;  from  the 
greater  to  the  less.  It  may  be  put  thus : — The  life  is  more 
than  meat ;  if  therefore  God  gives  the  life,  much  more  will 
he  give  meat  for  its  support :  the  body  is  more  than  raiment ; 
if  therefore  God  fashions  the  body,  much  more  will  he  pro- 
vide raiment  for  its  wear.  And  the  argument  rises  in  force 
in  proportion  as  the  greater  boon  already  bestowed  transcends 
any  lesser  boon  required  for  its  preservation  or  development. 
In  a  sense,  the  argument  may  be  applied  to  the  brutes  that 
perish.  Even  in  their  case,  the  life  they  receive  at  first  from 
God  is  more  than  the  meat  they  must  have  afterwards  if 
the  life  is  to  be  kept.     The  body  which  God  makes  for  them, 


142  THE  SIN  OF  CAREFULNESS. 

so  wondrously  organised  outwardly,  and  so  still  more  won- 
drously  animated  from  within,  is  more  than  the  wool  or  hair, 
or  whatever  else  in  the  outer  skin  protects  and  warms  it.  God 
will  not  make  void  his  gift  of  life,  even  of  mere  animal  life, 
by  withholding  that  without  which  it  perishes.  He  will  not 
form  a  fragile  structure  of  nice  adjustment  and  exquisite  sensi- 
bility, and  neglect  to  shield  it  from  exposure  and  from  harm. 

Of  course,  the  argument  may  be  applied  with  immensely 
greater  power  to  man ;  and  to  man  considered  simply  as 
man. 

So  far  life  in  him  that  needs  meat  is  like  that  of  the  brutes ; 
it  is  animal.  But  it  is  associated  in  him  with  intelligence 
akin  to  that  of  God.  His  body  also  is  like  that  of  any  beast ; 
it  is  material.  But  it  is  the  minister  of  the  immaterial  spirit 
lodged  in  it,  and  it  is  capable  of  becoming  itself  spiritual. 
Man,  therefore,  so  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made,  may  surely 
cherish  the  expectation  that  the  giver  of  such  life  as  his  will 
be  at  some  pains  to  feed  it ;  that  the  maker  of  such  a  body  as 
his  will  give  himself  some  concern  about  its  being  clothed. 

But  the  full  force  of  the  Lord's  argument  is  reserved  for 
his  own  disciples.  It  is  to  you,  his  poor  ones,  his  little  ones, 
that  the  Lord  especially  and  most  emphatically  addresses  it. 
Your  animal  life,  about  whose  supjDort  you  are  so  apt  to  be 
anxious,  is  not  merely  associated  with  mind,  as  in  the  case  of 
created  intelligences  generally,  but  is  allied  now,  by  redemp- 
tion, to  Divinity  itself.  The  material  body  about  whose  cover- 
ing you  take  so  much  thought  is  destined  to  be  conformed  to 
the  Lord's  own  glorious  body  at  his  coming.  Surely  to  you 
the  Lord's  brief  and  pithy  question  should  come  home  with 
resistless  power :  "  Is  not  the  life  more  than  meat,  and  the  body 
than  raiment  1 "  You  have  received  at  God's  hands  the  higher 
heavenly  life  as  well  as  the  lower  earthly  life  ;  and  received  it 
at  such  a  cost,  through  the  sacrifice  of  his  Son ;  and  by  such 
a  process,  the  renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost.   Can  you  not  then 


THE  SIN  OF  CAREFULNESS.  143 

trust  this  God  for  the  bread  and  water  you  must  have  to  eat 
and  drink  during  the  few  years  of  your  sojourn  here  1  You, 
whose  bodies,  now  bearing  the  image  of  the  earthly,  are  soon 
to  bear  the  image  of  the  heavenly,  can  you  not  reckon  on  fit 
raiment  being  provided  for  the  brief  fragment  of  time  that 
must  elapse  before  they  shall  need  no  covering  but  that  of 
the  silent  tomb,  until  they  are  summoned  to  put  on  incorrup- 
tion  and  immortality  1 

II.  The  next  appeal  of  the  Lord  is  to  proyidencg.;  the 
providence  of  God  over  the  creatures  he  has  made.  And  it 
is  twofold  (vers.  24-28.) 

.  ,  See  what  God  does  for  the  creatures  that  can  take  no 
thought  for  themselves  (vers,  24,  27,  28).  And  consider 
what  your  taking  thought  for  yourselves  can  do  for  you  (vers. 
25,  26).  Most  fitly  is  this  last  consideration  imbedded  in 
the  midst,  in  the  very  heart,  of  the  other.  Between  what 
God  does,  in  his  providence,  for  feeding  the  fowls  of  the  air, 
and  what  he  does,  in  his  providence,  for  the  clothing  of  the 
grass  of  the  field,  the  somewhat  stern,  if  not  even  sarcastic, 
exposure  of  your  helplessness  comes  in.  And  it  comes  in  so 
as  to  point  out  the  precise  evil  or  sin  that  the  Lord  means  to 
reprove.  It  is  the  evil  or  sin  of  taking  thought.  Of  that  the 
fowls  of  the  air  are  incapable  ;  as  is  also  the  grass  of  the  field. 

Both,  however,  are  capable,  as  all  God's  creatures  are,  of  con- 
formity to  the  conditions  of  their  being  and  their  well-being ; 
and  in  some  sense  therefore  they  are  all  under  an  obligation  to 
such  conformity.  The  ravens  must,  if  they  would  prosper, 
fly  abroad  for  their  food  ;  seek  it  and  bring  it  home.  The 
lilies  even,  stationary  as  they  are,  if  they  would  grow,  must 
imbibe  and  rightly  improve  the  kindly  juice  and  moisture  of 
the  soil  in  which  they  have  their  root.  Both  alike  must  be 
capable  of  using  the  appropriate  means  of  life  and  growth. 
The  only  thing  of  which  they  are  here  said  to  be  incapable  is 


144  THE  SIN  OF  CAREFULNESS. 

taking  thought.  Of  course,  in  your  case,  your  use  of  means  as 
to  food  and  clothing ;  your  compliance  with  the  laws  or  condi- 
tions of  your  being  and  your  well-being,  must  be  different  from 
what  it  can  be  in  theirs.  It  must  be  intelligent,  and  there- 
fore conscientious  ;  involving  free  choice  and  responsibility. 

But  as  regards  the  absence  of  taking  thought,  the 
parallel  is  conclusive  and  complete.  The  argument  is  irre- 
sistible. What  can  all  your  taking  thought  do  for  you  1  It 
may  furrow  your  brow  with  premature  wrinkles.  It  may 
whiten  your  head,  while  yet  youiig,  with  the  wintry  snows  of 
age.  It  may  waste  and  wither  the  bloom  of  opening  youth 
and  vigorous  strength  of  manhood.  Worse  than  that,  it  may 
blight  and  kill  warm  love,  and  turn  the  heart  that  once  was 
tender  into  flinty  rock.  But  can  it  lengthen  life  by  a  moment ; 
or  increase  stature  by  a  cubit  ]  Can  it  work  for  your  good, 
as  regards  food  and  clothing  1  Diligence  in  your  calhng  ;  a 
wise  prudence  in  the  expenditure  of  the  fruit  of  your  dili- 
gence, may  do  much  in  that  way.  But  will  taking  thought 
do  anything  1  Will  mere  anxiety  about  your  affairs  help  you 
at  all ;  or  the  wretched  policy  which  such  anxiety  is  too 
apt  to  prompt  1  What  real  good  comes  of  all  its  shifts  and 
subtle  expedients?  Would  you  not  consult  better  for  your- 
selves, even  in  the  worst  extremity,  by  bidding  away  from 
you  the  schemes  implied  in  taking  thought,  and  simply  act- 
ing according  to  what  is  present  duty,  present  law  1 

Do  the  ravens  and  the  lilies  fare  at  all  the  worse  for  doing 
so  1  They  take  no  thought.  They  do  not  calculate  consequences 
and  balance  nice  questions  of  lawfulness  or  expediency.  They 
simply  conform,  at  every  instant,  to  the  present  will  of  God. 
They  do  so  unconsciously.  ]\Iay  not  you,  as  the  Lord's  dis- 
ciples, do  so,  intelligently  and  believingly ;  casting  all  your 
care  on  him  who  careth  for  you  1  "Be  careful  for  nothing,  but 
in  every  thing,  by  prayer  and  supplication,  with  thanksgiving, 
make  your  requests  known  unto  God."   Your  taking  thought 


THE  SIN  OF  CAREFULNESS.  145 

can  avail  for  nothing  :  but  that  will  avail  for  you  much.  For 
it  is  immediately  added  :  "  and,"  in  your  doing  that,  "  the 
peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all  understanding,  shall  keep  your 
hearts  and  minds  through  Christ  Jesus  ;" — peace  more  satis- 
fying than  the  raven's  unsought  portion  ;  grace  more  beau- 
tiful than  the  lily's  unconscious  smile. 

III.  The  Lord  would  have  his  disciples  to  abstain  from 
taking  thought ;  first,  because  in  their  case  pre-eminently  the 
giver  of  the  life  and  former  of  the  body  may  surely  be  relied 
on  for  food  and  raiment ;  and  secondly,  because  the  God,  who 
in  his  providence  feeds  the  ravens  and  clothes  the  lilies,  must 
be  more  solicitous  about  the  welfare  of  his  intelligent  and 
redeemed  offspring.  Now,  thirdly,  that  gracious  relation 
comes  in  more  expressly  (vers.  29,  30).  The  emphasis  here 
is  on  the  word  "ye."  It  is  an  emphatic  contrast.  The 
argument  or  appeal  here  rises  to  a  higher  stage.  From 
creation  and  providence,  it  passes  on  to  grace.  The  relation 
which  grace  establishes  between  God's  children  and  himself 
comes  in.     It  is  that  of  fatherhood  and  sonship. 

It  is  admitted,  as  it  would  seem,  that  they  who  are  not 
God's  children  may  be  expected  to  take  thought ;  to  seek 
after  all  these  things.  It  is  only  natural  that  they  should  ;  it 
is  just  what  might  be  anticipated  in  their  circumstances. 

But  you  are  differently  situated.  You  have  a  Father  in 
heaven ;  God  is  your  Father.  And  it  should  be  enough  for  you, 
in  your  worst  straits,  to  remember,  yes,  to  call  to  mind  in  all 
emergencies  and  extremities,  that  your  heavenly  Father  sees 
your  case  ;  that  he  knoweth  that  you  have  need  of  these  things. 

Were  I  lying  down  at  night  in  a  bare  and  empty  cabin, 
vnth  wife  and  children  all  but  famished  around  me,  and  with 
no  scrap  anj^where  of  provision  for  to-morrow,  it  would  be 
something,  much,  everything,  to  know  that  a  kind  and  liberal 
friend,  not  far  off,  had  been  made  aware  of  my  case.     I  might 

L 


146  THE  SIN  OF  CAREFULNESS. 

have  no  express  promise  from  him  as  regards  my  present 
straits ;  no  assurance  of  his  seasonahle  interposition  for  my 
relief ;  nor  any  notion  of  the  way  in  which  he  might  come 
to  help  me.  Still  the  thought  of  his  knowing  my  need  would 
soothe  and  solace  me  ;  and  in  the  home  of  my  desolate  desti- 
tution I  might  lay  myself  down  and  sleep  in  peace.  Your 
Father  knoweth  that  ye  have  need  of  these  things.  Your 
Father,  he  who,  that  he  might  call  you  his  children,  spared 
not  his  only-begotten  Son,  but  gave  him  up  to  the  death  that 
he  might  redeem  you  from  the  position  of  criminals,  himself 
becoming  the  criminal  in  your  stead,  and  might  make  you,  in 
and  with  himself,  sons  as  he  is  Son ;  your  Father,  he  who, 
that  you  may  call  him  your  Father,  sendeth  forth  the  Spirit 
of  his  Son  into  your  hearts,  crying,  Abba,  Father ;  he  knoweth 
that  you  have  need  of  these  things.  He  knoweth  all  your 
need.  And  he  knows  it  as  your  Father.  Should  not  that 
be  enough  for  you  1  How  unreasonable,  how  unworthy,  how 
inexcusable,  for  you  to  be  careful  and  troubled  about  these 
things ;  you  who  have  such  a  Father ;  so  able,  so  willing,  to 
charge  himself  with  the  burden  of  them  all ! 

There  may  be  some  excuse  or  apology  for  the  nations  of 
the  world  taking  thought  about  these  things.  They  who 
have  no  Father  in  heaven,  no  one  whom  they  can  warrant- 
ably,  or  consciously,  or  believingly,  address  by  that  ehdearing 
name  ;  to  whom  in  Christ  Jesus  they  can  look  up  as  his 
Father  and  their  Father,  his  God  and  their  God ;  who  have 
no  living,  loving  apprehension  of  a  fatherly  relation  and 
heart  in  him  toward  them,  or  a  filial  relation  and  heart  in 
them  toward  him, — they  may  take  thought.  There  may  be 
some  explanation  of  their  anxiety.  INay,  in  an  emphatic  and 
awful  sense,  they  do  well  to  be  anxious.  Would  that  they 
were  a  hundred  times  more  anxious  than  they  are.  For  they 
too,  as  well  as  his  own  dear  children,  are  absolutely  depend- 
ent on  him  ;  helplessly  dependent ;   at  his  disposal ;  in  his 


THE  SIN  OF  CAKEFULNESS.  147 

hands.  They  cannot  feed  or  clothe  themselves.  The  earthly 
good  things  which  they  have,  which  are  all  the  good  they 
have,  are  not  in  their  keeping.  AU  their  solicitude  about 
them,  all  their  care  and  careful,  busy,  keen,  contriving 
schemes,  cannot  secure  for  them  an  hour's  possession  of  them. 
A  breath  of  wind  scatters  their  deep-laden  argosies.  A  sudden 
crash  brings  their  best  speculations  to  the  dust.  A  swift 
stroke  of  disease  or  trouble  lays  them  prostrate.  Care  as  they 
may,  plan  and  plot  as  they  may,  they  cannot,  any  more  than 
the  poorest  saint  of  God,  add  a  cubit  to  their  stature,  an  hour 
to  their  lives,  a  moment  to  their  proprietorship  of  the  things 
that  they  call  their  own.  They  are  not  their  own.  They 
hold  them  at  God's  pleasure.  And  by  what  tenure  1  on  what 
footing  1  on  what  terms  ?  On  forbearance  merely  ;  in  long- 
suffering  patience.  No  covenant  right,  no  children's  title, 
have  they  to  any  one  of  them,  or  any  substitute  or  equivalent 
if  all  should  be  swept  away,  save  only  the  stings  of  conscience 
and  the  arrows  of  an  angry  God  ! 

O  ye  orphans  in  the  great  Father's  world,  ye  who,  under 
the  full  blaze  of  God's  manifested  fatherly  love,  choose  to  be 
fatherless  still,  be  anxious  !  Be  careful !  Full  well  you  may. 
This  night  your  souls  may  be  required  of  you.  The  things 
you  covet  and  grasp  and  enjoy,  your  sumptuous  fare  and 
purple  clothing,  your  worldly  pomp  and  carnal  ease,  the  things 
you  seek  after :  nay,  the  veriest  rag  of  your  raiment ; 
the  tiniest  morsel  of  your  food ;  the  briefest  moment  of 
night's  quiet  sleep  and  day's  warm  light;  all  are  yours  by 
sufferance  merely.  You  cannot  hold  them.  They  pass,  they 
are  gone.    And  where  and  what  are  you  1 

All  these  things  do  the  nations  of  this  world  seek  after. 
But  you,  ye  disciples  of  Christ,  are  not  thus  fatherless.  I  will 
not  leave  you  orphans.  I  will  come  unto  you.  Yes,  in  your 
deepest  poverty,  of  whatever  sort ;  in  your  utter  beggary  and 
want,  I  will  come  unto  you.    I  who  have  brought  you  out  of  hell 


148  THE  SIN  OF  CAREFULNESS. 

and  bought  you  for  heaven,  will  come  unto  you,  to  tell  you 
that  your  Father,  my  Father  and  your  Father,  my  God  and 
your  God,  knoweth  what  you  have  need  of ;  knoweth  it  to  the 
minutest  care  that  can  oppress  you  ;  knoweth  it  in  the  view 
of  its  being  his  good  pleasure  to  give  you  the  kingdom. 

IV.  This  is  the  Lord's  crowning  argument  or  appeal  {vers. 
31,  32.)      And  it  may  tell  in  a  twofold  way.      Viewed  as 
turning  on  the  contrast  between  Christ's  disciples,  who  have 
God  as  their  Father,  and  the  nations  of  the  world,  it  may  be 
put  in  two  Hghts.     It  is  more  natural  and,  in  a  sense,  excus- 
able for  them  than  for  you  to  seek  after  and  take  thought 
about  these  things ;  for  first,  on  the  one  hand,  they  have  no 
Father  in  heaven, — none  whom  they  recognise  and  own  as 
such, — on  whom  to  devolve  the  care  of  these  things  ;  and 
secondly,  on  the  other  hand,  they  have  really  nothing  else  to 
care  for.     But  you,  casting  all  your  care  about  seeking  after 
these  things  on  your  Father,  who  knoweth  that  you  have  need 
of  them,  and  what  need  you  have  of  them,  are  called  to  seek 
the  kingdom  of  God  in  the  simple,  implicit  belief  that  all 
■  these  things  shall  be  added  unto  you.     When  they  come  to 
harass  you,  these  worldly  anxieties ;  when  they  crowd  in  upon 
your  soul,  as  if  they  would  overpower  and  overw^helm  it ;  you 
meet  them  as  God's  children,  not  only  in   that  character 
satisfied  to  leave  them  all  to  your  Father,  who  knows  your 
need,  but  in  that  character  also  seeking  his  kingdom.     Like 
Nehemiah,  you  say,  "I  am  doing  a  great  work,  so  that  I 
cannot  come  down." 

"  It  is  your  Father's  good  pleasure  to  give  you  the  king- 
dom." So  the  Son  of  his  love  speaks  to  you,  his  brethren. 
That  is  the  consummation  of  his  loving-kindness  toAvards  you. 
He  contemplated  nothing  short  of  that,  when  he  sent  me  to 
make  him  known  to  you  as  Father;  my  Father  and  your 
Father ;  and  when  he  commissioned  me  to  bring  you  into  such 


THE  SIN  OF  CAREFULNESS.  149 

oneness  with  myself  as  implies  his  loving  you  as  he  loveth  me, 
and  looking  on  you  as  joint-heirs  with  me.  It  is  his  good 
pleasure  to  give  you  the  kingdom  (ver.  32).  And  if  so,  what 
else  will  he  not  give  you  1  What  else  that  is  needed  in  order 
to  your  obtaining  that  1  He  may  keep  you,  as  his  sons,  and 
in  that  character  heirs  of  the  kingdom  which  it  is  his  good 
pleasure  to  give  you,  under  a  cloud  for  a  time.  The  world 
may  not  know  you ;  and  you  may  often  be  at  a  loss  to  know 
yourselves  as  sons  of  God  and  heirs  of  his  gifted  kingdom. 
But  you  believe  ;  the  Lord  helping  your  unbelief.  And  that  is 
what  your  faith,  be  it  more  or  less,  grasps  ;  that,  and  nothing 
short  of  that ;  its  being  your  Father's  good  pleasure  to  give  you 
the  kingdom.  I  care  not  with  what  degree  or  measure  of 
personal  confidence  your  faith  grasps  that.  It  is  that  that  it 
grasps,  if  it  grasps  Christ  at  all.  And  if  it  grasps  that,  how 
should  it  not  grasp  all  that  comes  before  that  1  Will  your 
Father,  whose  good  pleasure  it  is  to  give  to  you,  as  his  sons, 
the  kmgdom,  withhold  the  morsel  of  meat  and  rag  of  raiment 
you  need  for  a  Kttle  while  till  the  time  for  your  entering  on 
your  high  inheritance  comes  1 

Nay,  it  is  an  argument  and  appeal  going  far  beyond  the 
mere  necessaries  of  food  and  raiment.  It  comes  home  to 
you  as  spiritual  men.  It  assumes  that  while  others  seek 
after  these  things,  the  things  that  concern  their  food  and 
raiment,  their  personal  satisfaction,  and  worldly  honour  and 
estate ;  you  have  something  else  to  care  for.  You  have  a 
liigher  aim,  and  you  Kve  for  a  higher  object.  You  seek  after 
something  better  than  the  nations  of  the  world  seek  after. 
And  you  do  so  in  faith  ;  knowing  God  as  your  Father ;  and 
being  sure  that,  as  your  Father,  he  means  to  give  you  no 
paltry  boon,  no  mere  measure  of  partial  indulgence  and  grace  ; 
but  the  kingdom ;  the  whole  kingdom ;  all  that  belongs  to  his 
Son  as  his  King  in  Sion. 

Surely,  with  such  a  prospect  and  in  such  a  position,  you 


150  THE  SIN  OF  CAKEFULNESS. 

have  something  else  to  do  than  to  mind  eartlily  things ; 
something  better  to  care  for  than  meat  and  drink  and  clothing ; 
something  higher  to  live  for  than  ease  or  contentment,  or 
wealth  or  honour.  What  leisure  have  you  for  such  anxieties 
as  these  1  What  room  in  your  hearts  for  them  1  Lay  not  up 
for  yourselves  treasures  on  earth.  For  surely  here  again  the 
greater  includes  and  implies  the  less.  If  the  initial  or  ajJrioj'i 
presumption,  or  arguments  drawn  from  creation  and  pro\'i- 
dence,  warrant  confidence  in  him  as  not  likely  to  grudge  you 
the  means  of  sustaining  the  natural  life  originally  bestowed  on 
you  :  much  more  is  the  inference  from  your  filial  rank  and 
inheritance,  reaching  on  into  eternal  ages,  conclusive  as  to 
your  title  to  rely  on  God  for  all  that  you  can  need  for  the 
eternal  life  which  is  his  gift  in  Christ  his  Son. 

Now,  let  these  four  arguments  against  the  sin  of  care,  or 
undue  anxiety  about  worldly  concerns,  be  brought  to  bear 
collectively  and  cumulatively,  j)ointedly  and  personally,  on 
the  conscience  and  heart  of  a  doubting  and  distrustful  child  of 
God.  Let  him  be  recognised  as  really  and  truly  a  child  of  God, 
notwithstanding  his  distrust  and  doubt.  The  appeal  to  him 
in  that  character  will  cover  all  who  would  ask  to  be  associated 
with  him  in  the  recognition  of  it. 

Stand  forth,  therefore,  thou  child  of  God.  Thou  who 
believest  in  the  only-begotten  Son  of  God  for  the  saving  of 
thy  soul  and  thine  eternal  blessedness  in  heaven ;  but  who 
still  art  troubled  with  uneasy  thoughts  and  restless  longings 
about  thy  worldly  estate  and  prospects,  as  regards  thyself  or 
thy  household.     Thou  art  rebuked  on  all  hands. 

Creation  rebukes  thee.  Who  breathed  into  thee  that 
wondrous  life  of  thine,  which,  shared  with  the  lowest  animal 
pulsation  on  the  one  hand,  is  yet  capable  of  union  with  the 
highest  divine  perfection  of  being  on  the  other  ?  Who  made 
for  thee  that  body  which  is  not  to  rot  in  earth,  like  the  irre- 


THE  SIN  OF  CAREFULNESS.  151 

coverable  remains  of  the  beasts  that  perish,  hut  is  to  be 
fashioned  like  the  glorious  body  of  the  risen  Saviour  1  Canst 
thou  not  trust  him  who  has  breathed  into  thee  such  a  life, 
reaching  to  eternity,  for  the  few  loaves  and  fishes  that  are 
needed  to  sustain  it  for  a  day  ?  Canst  thou  not  trust  him  who 
has  made  for  thee  such  a  body,  destined  to  such  a  fashion,  for 
the  habiliments  that  are  to  cover  it  till  it  wants  none  other 
than  a  shroud,  while  it  lies  waiting  in  the  grave  for  glory  ? 

Providence,  rebukes  thee.  Apart  from  the  right  use  of 
means,  and  the  due  observance  of  all  the  laws  and  condi- 
tions of  thy  place  and  position  in  your  Father's  world,  what 
canst  thou  gain  by  anxious  carefulness  and  thought  ?  See 
what  he  does  for  the  creatures  that  are  incapable  of  such  soli- 
citude.    And  ask  thyself  what  that  can  do  for  thee  ? 

Gracej;ebukes  thee.  Thou  art  not  an  outcast,  forlorn  and 
fatherless,  in  the  wild  waste  wilderness  of  a  fallen  world. 
That  was  thy  state  once ;  and  if  it  were  so  still,  it  might  ex- 
cuse, and  even  warrant,  all  the  anxiety  thou  feelest,  or  canst 
feel,  as  to  thy  good  estate  now,  Nay,  if  rightly  realised,  it 
should  move  thee  to  far  deeper  concern  about  thy  good  estate, 
not  now,  but  for  hereafter.  But  thou  art  now  a  child,  a  son  ; 
at  home  with  God  as  thy  Father  in  thine  Elder  Brother,  his 
Son  Jesus  Christ.  Wilt  thou  not  trust  thy  Father  in  heaven  ; 
thy  Father  thus  calling  thee  to  be  his  son ;  for  food  and 
clothing  ?  "  He  that  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but  delivered 
him  up  for  thee,  how  shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely  give 
thee  all  things?" 

Glorj_rebukes  thee.  Thou  hast  something  else  to  seek, 
beside  and  beyond  the  earthly  cares  that  are  so  apt  to 
trouble  thee.  The  kingdom  of  God  should  be  occupying 
thy  thoughts.  In  itself,  and  on  its  OAvn  account,  it  is 
worthy  of  thy  whole  soul  being  absorbed  in  seeking  it.  To 
be  an  instrument  or  agent  in  advancing  it,  is  for  thee  the 
highest   earthly   privilege ;    to   be   partaker   of    its   eternal 


152  i  THE  SIN  OF  CAEEFULNESS, 

1 

blessedness  is  the  lieavenly  reward  and  crown.  Seeking 
that,  it  may  well  be  expected  that  thou  shouldst  subordinate 
to  its  claims  and  anxieties  all  claims  and  anxieties  of  a  meaner 
sort.  All  the  rather,  because  he  who  calls  thee  to  do  so  gives 
thee  the  kingdom.  That  is  secure  to  thee  by  his  sovereign 
gift.  It  is  his  good  pleasure  to  give  thee  the  kingdom.  Can 
it  be  otherwise  than  his  good  pleasure  to  give  thee  all  that 
thou  canst  need  till  thou  reachest  thy  glorious  home  in 
heaven?  Does  not  the  greater  gift  include  all  the  lesser] 
He  gives  thee  the  kingdom  now.  It  is  his  good  pleasure,  as 
thy  Father,  to  give  it  to  thee  in  measure  and  in  foretaste  now ; 
not  as  meat  and  drink,  but  as  righteousness  and  peace,  and 
joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  "What  he  gives  thee  already  of  the 
kingdom,  in  thy  sense  and  experience  of  thine  adoption  as  a 
son,  receiving  the  Spirit  of  his  Son  in  thy  heart,  crying,  Abba, 
Father,  is  surely  enough  to  warrant  reliance  on  him  for  all 
that  the  neediest  son  can  ask  of  the  most  loving  father.  And 
viewed  as  the  earnest  of  the  full  possession  of  the  kingdom, 
it  may  well  give  force  to  the  appeal,  as  addressed  to  the  feeblest 
and  most  faint-hearted — "Fear  not,  little  flock;  for  it  is 
your  Father's  good  pleasure  to  give  you  the  kingdom." 

The  Lord  adds  to  these  arguments  against  carefulness, 
two  tests  or  practical  directions. 

The  first  test  is  liberality ;  or  a  willingness  to  part  with 
your  substance ;  be  it  money,  or  time,  or  influence,  or  ability 
of  whatever  sort ;  to  part  with  it  as  a  sacrifice,  a  sale ; 
"  Sell  that  ye  have  ;"  to  part  with  it  freely,  and  without  hope 
of  its  being  replaced,  as  alms  ;  "  Give  alms  "  (vers.  33,  34). 
These  two  conditions  are  here  implied.  Selling  is  sacrifice,  or 
self-denial.  Giving  alms  is  bounty,  mere  gratuitous  donation, 
irrespective  of  any  prospect  of  return  of  any  sort ;  whether 
in  kind,  or  in  gratitude,  or  in  fame.  To  be  a  fair  criterion  of 
your  being  careful  for  nothing,  but  casting  all  your  care  on 


THE  SIN  OF  CAREFULNESS.  153 

your  Fatlier  in  heaven  ;  your  beneficence,  or  your  readiness 
to  give,  must  be  a  selling  of  what  you  have,  which  is  self- 
sacrifice  ;  and  it  must  be  mere  alms  ;  giving  with  no  view  to 
any  requital.  It  must  be  such  as  to  show  that  you  really  can 
and  do  trust  your  Father  in  heaven  ;  and  that,  relying  on  him, 
you  are  prepared,  at  the  call  of  charity,  to  consider  more  your 
present  duty  than  your  ultimate  security  from  want ;  and  to 
do  so  with  a  disinterested  aim,  not  looking  for  any  present 
recompense,  but  acting  on  the  principle,  "  Freely  ye  have 
received,  freely  give."  "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to 
receive." 

And  not  merely  as  a  test  or  criterion  of  a  right  state  of 
mind  as  regards  your  earthly  possessions  and  powers,  of  what- 
ever sort,  is  this  manner  of  giving  the  one  and  using  the 
other  to  be  enforced  ;  but  as  pointing,  in  the  way  of  a  direc- 
tory, to  the  best  method  for  developing  and  stimulating  the 
grace  in  question.  Let  it  be  in  active  exercise.  Let  it  have 
full  scope  and  swing.  Let  there  be  real  selling  and  giving 
alms  ;  not  the  pretence  and  name  ;  as  when  I  cast  in  what  I 
call  my  mite  into  the  treasury  of  a  good  cause,  when  it  costs 
me  nothing,  and  does  not  throw  me  in  the  least  more  than  I 
felt  before  on  the  providence  of  God  ;  or  when  I  may  indeed 
sacrifice  some  personal  good,  or  what  I  regard  as  such,  but 
either  with  a  grudge,  or  with  a  reserved  expectation  of  some 
acknowledgment.  Let  there  be  real  selling  and  giving  alms. 
That  will  at  once  prove  and  perfect  the  habit  of  "  taking  no 
thought,"  but  trusting  him  who  is  our  Maker,  Preserver, 
Father. 

But  this  first  test,  even  as  thus  explained  and  applied, 
is  imperfect,  and  apt  to  be  fallacious,  unless  it  is  qualified  or 
supplemented  by  the  second.  For  it  may  be  the  result  merely 
of  a  natural  disposition,  the  gratification  of  a  natural  im- 
pulse ;  the  impulse  of  constitutional  good  nature  or  reckless 
prodigality.     If  it  is  to  be  really  genuine,  springing  out  of 


154  THE  SIN  OF  CAREFULNESS. 

genuine  trust  in  God,  founded  on  your  knowledge  of  him  as 
your  maker  and  preserver ;  your  Father,  whose  good  pleasure 
it  is  to  give  you  the  kingdom ;  if  its  motive  is  to  be  your 
being  wholly  occupied  in  seeking  the  kingdom  of  God,  and 
having  therefore  neither  taste  nor  time  for  earthly  cares ; 
then  it  must  stand  the  test  to  which  the  Lord  puts  it  when 
he  says,  "  Let  your  loins  be  girded  about,  and  your  lights 
burning  ;  and  ye  yourselves  like  unto  men  that  wait  for  their 
lord,  when  he  will  return  from  the  wedding ;  that,  when  he 
Cometh  and  knocketh,  they  may  open  unto  him  immediately. 
Blessed  are  those  servants,  whom  the  lord,  when  he  cometh, 
shall  find  watching :  verily  I  say  unto  you.  That  he  shall 
gird  himself,  and  make  them  to  sit  down  to  meat,  and  wiU 
come  forth  and  serve  them"  (vers.  35-37).  There  must  be 
longing,  waiting,  watching,  working,  for  the  Lord's  coming. 
For  this  good  habit,  this  heavenly  grace,  of  "  taking  no 
thought"  is  no  mere  dreamy,  listless  attitude  of  apathetic 
contentment,  no  epicurean  slumber,  no  selfish  sloth,  taking 
its  sordid  ease,  and  letting  the  world  wag  as  it  may.  No ; 
it  is  active  service,  busy  zeal,  earnest  working,  with  eager  eye 
and  laborious  hand,  loins  girt,  lamps  burning,  all  alive  and 
alert  on  the  look-out  for  the  Lord's  return.  The  Lord  cares 
for  you,  that  you  may  care  for  him.  He  relieves  you  of 
the  charge  of  anxious  thought  about  your  own  temporal 
welfare,  that  you  may  undertake  the  charge  of  anxious 
thought  about  his  heavenly  and  eternal  kingdom.  His 
word  to  you  is  not  merely,  "  Seek  not  ye  what  ye  shall  eat, 
or  what  ye  shall  drink,  neither  be  ye  of  doubtful  mind;" 
but  "  Go,  work  in  my  vineyard."  "  Be  up  and  doing." 
"  Occupy  till  I  come."     "  And  behold  I  come  quickly." 


THOROUGH-GOING  CHRISTIANITY.  155 


IX. 

THOEOUGH-GOING  CHEISTIANITY. 

"  And  an  angel  of  the  Lord  came  up  from  Gilgal  to  Bocliim,  and  said, 
I  made  you  to  go  up  out  of  Egypt,  and  have  brought  you  unto  the 
land  which  I  sware  unto  yoiu-  fathers  ;  and  I  said,  1  will  never 
break  my  covenant  with  you.  And  ye  shall  make  no  league  with 
the  inhabitants  of  this  land  ;  ye  shall  throw  down  their  altars  : 
but  ye  have  not  obeyed  my  voice  :  why  have  ye  done  this  ?  Where- 
fore I  also  said,  I  will  not  drive  them  out  from  before  you  ;  but 
they  shall  be  as  thorns  in  your  sides,  and  their  gods  shall  be  a 
snare  unto  you.  And  it  came  to  pass,  when  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
spake  these  words  iinto  all  the  children  of  Israel,  that  the  people 
lifted  up  their  voice,  and  wept.  And  they  called  the  name  of 
that  place  Bochim  :  and  they  sacrificed  there  unto  the  Lord." — 
Judges  ii.  1-5. 

The  sin  of  Israel,  here  reproved,  consisted  in  their  not 
thoroughly  driving  out  the  inhabitants  of  the  land,  and 
throwing  down  all  their  altars.  We  do  not  now  inquire 
particularly  into  the  reason  and  equity,  either  of  the  Lord's 
stern  decree  against  the  nations  that  had  occupied  Canaan,  or 
of  the  manner  in  which  it  pleased  him  to  execute  his  decree 
through  the  agency  of  his  own  chosen  and  redeemed  people. 
In  regard  to  the  first  of  these  points,  there  are  some  con- 
siderations that  ought  ever  to  be  kept  in  view.  In  the 
original  division  of  the  earth  and  its  allotment  among  the 
tribes  of  men  (Gen.  x.  25)  this  portion  of  the  globe  was 
reserved  for  the  future  Israel  (Deut.  xxxii.  8),  and  the  reser- 
vation was  most  probably  intimated  to  all  and  sundry  at  the 
time,  that  they  might  make  their  arrangements  accordingly. 


156  THOEOUGH-GOING  CHRISTIANITY. 

Again,  when  Abraham  was  called  to  be  a  pilgrim  in  the  land, 
God  gave  him  many  testimonies,  before  all  its  princes  and 
their  subjects,  of  his  being  the  rightful  heir  and  lord  ;  as  in 
the  exploit  he  was  enabled  to  achieve  against  the  five  kings, 
and  other  manifest  proofs  of  the  Lord  being  with  him ;  while 
in  Isaac  and  after  him  in  Jacob  (whose  burial  in  Canaan  must 
have  signally  brought  this  under  the  notice  of  all  the  people  of 
the  land),  and  specially  in  Joseph's  high  promotion  in  Egypt, 
the  indications  of  the  Divine  purjjose  to  make  that  family 
owners  of  the  land  might  have  become  more  and  more 
conspicuous  and  clear  to  all  observers  of  the  ways  of  God. 
Further,  the  long-suffering  of  God  waited  for  them  many  ages, 
during  which  he  postponed  the  accomplishment  of  his  pro- 
mise to  faithful  Abraham  (Gen.  xv.  1 G) :  nor  was  it  till  the 
iniquity  of  the  Amorites  was  full,  that  his  posterity  again 
appeared  upon  the  field,  and,  on  account  of  their  manifold 
abominations,  the  land  vomited  out  its  inhabitants. 

Then,  as  to  the  second  point,  the  employment  by  God  of 
his  own  people  as  his  instruments  in  this  his  strange  work 
of  judgment,  let  the  sovereignty  of  God  be  adored  ;  even  his 
absolute  right  to  use  what  means  he  pleases,  and  set  men  to 
what  work,  or  task,  or  trial,  he  sees  fit.  And  further,  let  it 
be  considered  what  the  effect  might  have  been  ;  had  Israel 
executed  these  measures  of  severity  more  decidedly  in  God's 
name,  and  less  in  their  own,  than  they  actually  did  ;  with 
more  of  loyal  faith  in  him  whose  mere  mstruments  they 
were,  and  less  of  the  admixture  of  their  own  policy  and  their 
own  passions  ; — more,  in  short,  as  acting  for  God,  and  less,  or 
rather  not  at  all,  as  acting  for  themselves.  In  that  case,  the 
work  of  destruction  might  have  been  at  first  even  more 
thorough.  But  calm  and  pure,  free  from  excess  of  lust  or 
selfish  fury,  it  would  have  borne  the  stamp  and  impress,  not 
of  the  wrath  of  man  which  worketh  not  the  righteousness  of 
God,  but  of  the  severe  and  solemn  majesty  of  the  wrath  of 


THOROUGH-GOING  CHRISTIANITY.  157 

God  himself.  And  who  knows  how  soon  such  a  war,  so 
carried  on,  under  divine  sanction,  and  in  a  divine  spirit, 
might  have  led  to  a  very  different  result  from  that  which 
was  actually  realised,  through  the  removal  of  some  into  other 
lands,  and  the  admission  of  others  to  the  faith  and  friendship 
of  the  happy  people  whose  God  the  Lord  was  1 

There  might  have  been  believing  Eahabs  in  other  cities 
besides  Jericho.  And  many  might  have  been  brought  in  faith 
to  act  the  part  of  the  man  of  Luz,  who,  in  the  midst  of  his 
city's  carnage,  was  saved,  being  let  go  with  all  his  house 
(chap.  i.  22-26). 

But  the  chief  reason  for  the  sweeping  doom  denounced 
against  the  idolatrous  nations,  their  idols  and  their  idolatries, 
had  respect  to  the  people  of  God  themselves.  And_accord- 
ingly,  it  is  with  reference  to  its  disastrous  effects  on  their  own 
character  and  history  that  their  sin  in  this  matter  is  here  so 
solemnly  and  touchingly  reproved.  They  failed  to  fulfil  the 
purposes  and  commandments  of  God. 

God,  by  the  hand  of  Moses,  had  brought  them  out  of 
Egypt,  and  led  them  through  the  wilderness  ;  and  by  the 
hand  of  Joshua  he  had  given  them  entrance  into  Canaan,  and 
.such  a  series  and  succession  of  victories  there  as  left  nothing 
to  be  done  but  to  gather  up  the  fruits.  ISTotliing  remained 
after  his  decease,  but  that  the  several  tribes,  in  their  several 
allotted  portions,  should  prosecute  the  advantage  bequeathed 
to  them,  and,  in  the  strength  of  God,  do  summary  work  on 
the  scarce  resisting  remnant  of  the  nations. 

But  far  different  was  their  actual  conduct.  The  picture 
here  presented  to  us  is  that  of  the  people  of  God,  stopping 
short  in  their  career  of  triumph,  not  follo^ving  up  and  follow- 
ing out  the  great  salvation  which  the  Lord  has  wrought. 
They  thus  incur  his  stern  rebuke  and  questioning.  "  I 
said  I  will  never  break  my  covenant  with  you.  And  ye 
shall  make  no  league  with  the  inhabitants  of  this  land ;  ye 


158  THOKOUGH-GOING  CHEISTIANITY. 

shall  throw  down  their  altars  :  but  ye  have  not  obeyed  my 
voice  :  why  have  ye  done  this  1 "  (ver.  2). 

"  Why  have  ye  done  this  1"  Many  reasons,  more  or  less 
plausible,  might  be  given.  They  were  weary  of  the  wilder- 
ness and  of  war  ;  they  had  had  enough  of  wandering  and 
fighting  ;  they  longed  for  quiet  rest  and  peace.  Motives  also 
of  seeming  pity  and  prudence  might  sway  them :  how  hard  to 
cut  off  with  so  fell  a  swoop,  and  in  one  wholesale  sacrifice,  so 
many  hosts  and  households,  of  whom  some  at  least  might  yet 
be  reclaimed  to  Jehovah's  service,  or  made  useful,  in  some 
way,  to  his  people.  Then,  as  these  relentings  of  tenderness, 
or  considerations  of  expediency,  occasioned  hesitation  and 
delay,  their  enemies  recovered  courage,  and  became  formidable 
again.  They  lost  the  time  and  the  tide.  Instead  of  rushing 
on  in  full  career,  with  all  the  prestige  of  Joshua's  fame, 
against  the  helpless  consternation  of  defeated  foes ;  they 
had  to  face,  themselves  by  a  natural  reaction  dispirited 
and  listless,  armies  now  sharp  and  shrewd  enough  to 
discover  that  the  heaven-aided  invaders  of  the  soil  might 
yet  prove  to  be  but  men.  'No  wonder  if,  under  some 
such  influences  as  these,  proposals  of  truce  and  comj^romise 
began  to  be  welcome  to  Israel ;  and  the  wisdom  of  God 
gave  way  before  the  policy  of  man.  It  was  a  policy,  how- 
ever, alike  unwarrantable  and  disastrous ;  unwarrantable, 
considering  all  that  God  had  done  for  them,  and  the  assurance 
they  had  that  he  would  not  break  his  covenant  with  them 
(ver.  1) ;  and  disastrous  in  the  issue,  for  the  error  was  irretriev- 
able. Never  afterwards  could  they  be  in  such  favourable  cir- 
cumstances for  deahng  with  the  nations,  their  idols  and  their 
altars.  Nor  could  the  solemn  knell  ever  cease  to  ring  in  their 
ears,  "  Wherefore  I  also  said,  I  will  not  drive  them  out  from 
before  yon  ;  but  they  shall  be  as  thorns  in  your  sides,  and  their 
gods  shall  be  a  snare  unto  you  "  (ver.  3). 

Look  at  I.  the  sin ;  II.  its  unexcusableness ;  III.  its  danger. 


THOKOUGH-GOING   CHRISTIANITY.  159 

I.  As  to  the  sin.     Let  me  speak  to  the  young  Christian, 
the  recent  convert, — or  to  any  of  you  who  have  recently  ex- 
perienced any  spiritual  awakening  or  revival  so  marked  as  to 
form  an  era  in  your  soul's  history,  and  give  you,  as  it  were,  a 
fresh  start  in  the  divine  life.     What  now  have  you  more 
urgent  on  hand  than  to  make  good  your  position  and  reap  the 
full  fruit  of  the  deliverance  wrought  out  for  you  1     Now  is 
the  time  for  decision.      Many  circumstances  are  favourable. 
Your  feelings  are  fresh ;  you  are  in  the  ardour  of  your  first 
love ;  being  forgiven  much,  you  love  much.     You  have  had, 
perhaps,  a  dark  struggle  with  the  doubts  and  fears  of  unbeHef. 
But  you  have  been  enabled  to  see  your  warrant  for  embracing 
Christ  as  yours ;  and  in  embracing  him  you  have  found  rest 
and  peace.     Then,  may  it  not  be  assumed  that  your  sense  of 
sin  is  keen,  your  apprehension  of  the  beauty  of  holiness 
bright  and  clear,  your  conscience  sensitive,  your  affections 
warm  ?     And,  besides  all  this,  it  is  such  a  crisis  and  turning- 
point  in  your  history  as  demands,  and  will  be  allowed  by 
every  one  to  demand,  a  total  change  in  the  whole  course  and 
current  of  your  lives.     You  are  by  all  means  bound,  and  you 
will  on  all  hands  be  expected,  to  come  forth  from  the  scene 
and  season  of  your  calling,  or  your  revival,  with  a  thoroughly 
altered  character,  and  to  pursue  henceforth  a  walk  altogether 
different  from  what  was  your  walk  before.     Surely  it  is  the 
very  time  for  your  making  thorough  work  of  your  personal 
Christianity.     It  is  the  time  for  dealing  a  deadly  blow  to  all 
the  enemies  of  your  holiness  or  your  peace.     What  better 
opportunity  for  carrying  fully  out  the  sternest  injunctions  of 
your  Lord  regarding  them  1 

How  does  he  bid  you  treat  these  enemies  ?  Mortify  your 
members  that  are  on  the  earth.  They  that  are  Christ's 
have  crucified  the  flesh,  with  the  affections  and  lusts.  If  any 
man  will  come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up 
his  cross,  and  follow  me.    Sell  that  thou  hast,  and  seek  treasure 


160  THOROUGH-GOING  CHEISTIA.NITY. 

in   heaven.      Love  not   the  world,  nor  the  things  of 
world.     Come  out  and  be  separate,  and  touch  not  the  uncL 
thing.     Have  no  fellowship  with  the  unfruitful   works 
darkness.     Be  holy ;  be  sober ;  let  your  moderation  be  knc 
unto  all  men.     Confess  Christ  before  men.     Speak  of 
testimonies   before   kings.      Abound   in   every  good  wc 
Ee  zealous.     Visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  afflict: 
Teach  transgressors  the  ways  of  God,  that  sinners  may 
converted  unto  him.     Let  your  light  so  shine  before  men,  t     ■ 
they  may  see  your  good  works,  and  glorify  your  Father  wh 
is  in  heaven. 

I  do  not  now  stay  to  explain  these  and  other  sim  lux- 
scriptural  rules  respecting  the  way  in  which  indwelling 
corruption,  with  its  tendencies,  should  be  dealt  with;  the 
entire  separation  from  the  world  which,  in  the  way  alike  of 
precaution  and  of  protest,  a  believer  should  maintain;  the 
open  testimony  he  should  be  ready  on  all  occasions  to  bear ; 
and  the  busy  and  earnest  endeavours  to  do  good  that  should 
ever  occupy  his  time.  Far  less  can  I  undertake  to  solve  the 
subtle  practical  questions  as  to  the  lawful  and  the  expedient 
that  hover  beside  the  doubtful  borders  of  these  departments 
of  duty.  Much  must  be  trusted  to  a  single  eye  and  a  con- 
science quickened  by  the  Spirit  and  enlightened  by  the  "Word 
of  God. 

But  are  you  really,  we  ask,  going  as  far,  in  all  these  lines 
of  holy  living,  as  conscience  and  a  single  eye  would  prompt  1 
Take,  for  instance,  any  one  single  sin  or  sinful  tendency ; 
what  is  your  treatment  of  it  in  the  hour  of  your  spiritual 
deliverance  1  The  lust, — of  whatever  nature ; — whether  pride, 
profligacy,  or  passion,  whether  an  unruly  temper  or  a  disordered 
imagination,  or  perverted  affections  and  desires,  whatever  form 
of  inward  corruption,  carnality,  enmity  against  God  and  his 
holy  spiritual  law,  is  the  most  obstinate  in  resisting  the  new 
aspirations  of  your  regeneration ; — the  law,  in  short,  in  your 


THOROUGH-GOING  CHEISTIANITY.  161 

members  warring  against  the  law  of  your  mind,  and  bringing 
you  into  captivity  to  the  law  of  sin  whicli  is  in  your  members  ; 
— How  do  you  deal  with  it  ?  You  can  well  recollect  what 
trouble  that  evil  thing  gave  you,  as  you  darkly  struggled 
through  the  depths  of  spiritual  conviction  into  the  light  and 
liberty  and  love  of  the  glorious  gospel  of  the  free,  gi-atuitous 
grace  of  God ;  what  endless  difficulties  it  put  in  the  way  of 
your  simply  closing  with  offered  mercy,  and  accepting  offered 
grace ;  and  how  long  it  was  ere  you  were  persuaded  to  cast 
yourself,  in  spite  of  it,  or  rather  by  reason  of  it,  just  as  you 
were,  on  the  all- sufficiency  of  him  whose  blood  cleanseth  from 
all  sin. 

So  far  well.  But  how,  when  you  have  attained  to  enlarge- 
ment and  peace  ;  perceiving  that  no  amount  of  sin  in  you,  nor 
any  feeling  of  it,  ought  to  hinder  your  coming  to  Christ,  or 
can  hinder  his  gracious  reception  of  you,  how  do  you  now  deal 
with  the  special  evil  that  had  vexed  you  ?  Do  you  at  once, 
promptly  and  decidedly,  do  summary  execution  uj^on  it,  as  upon 
an  enemy  to  whom  no  quarter  could  be  given  ?  Do  you  nail  it 
to  the  cross  in  which  you  find  rest?  Do  you  bring  to  bear  upon 
it  the  resolution  that  would  cut  off  a  right  hand  or  pluck  out 
a  right  eye  ?  Or  are  you  tempted  to  treat  it  after  a  milder 
fashion  1  Is  the  charm  of  your  new  repose,  in  the  sweet  sense 
of  reconciliation  to  your  God,  too  seductive  1  Are  you  in  haste 
to  lay  down  your  armour,  and  passively  enjoy  the  quiet  of  con- 
scious peace  with  him  ?  Ah !  then,  a  sort  of  tenderness  of  feel- 
ing towards  the  offending  part  of  you  begins  to  steal  into  your 
minds.  The  dream  of  gaining  time  and  reforming  it  more 
gradually  soothes  you.  Until,  step  by  step,  its  presence  ceasing 
to  be  felt  by  you  as  incompatible  with  much  of  a  sphitual 
frame,  you  are  led  to  tolerate  it  as  an  infirmity.  Alas  !  alas  ! 
you  may  discover  too  late  that  you  have  lost  a  most  precious 
opportunity  when  you  fail  to  signalise  the  high  day  of  your 

M 


162  THOROUGH-GOING  CHRISTIANITY. 

interest  in  the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  by  the  unsparing  sacrifice  on 
your  part  of  the  old  man  and  all  his  lusts. 

Or  take  another  instance.  Such  a  season  as  I  am  speak- 
ing of  is  the  very  season  for  remodelling  your  whole  plan  of 
life, — its  pursuits,  its  habits,  its  companionship.  You  come 
out,  0  believer,  from  the  secret  place  of  your  God,  where  he 
has  been  speaking  peace  to  you, — you  come  out  into  the 
world,  a  new  man ;  and  now,  when  all  is  fresh,  and  before  you 
have  committed  yourself,  now  is  the  very  time  for  arranging 
methodically  your  general  course  of  conduct  and  all  its  details. 
Let  but  a  few  weeks  or  even  days  elapse,  and  it  may  be  too 
late.  You  get  entangled  and  compromised.  How  are  you  to 
meet  with  your  former  associates  ?  On  what  terms  and  with 
what  degree  of  intimacy  ?  What  is  to  be  your  position  towards 
them,  their  plans  and  their  pleasures  1  What  will  be  the  posi- 
tion safest  for  yourselves  and  most  faithful  to  them  1  Again, 
When  and  how  are  you  to  join  yourselves  to  the  company 
commonly  called  godly,  cast  in  your  lot  with  them,  and  avow 
yourselves  partakers  of  their  toils,  their  trials,  and  their  joys  ? 
What,  moreover,  are  to  be  your  rules  for  the  exercise  of  pri- 
vate devotion  and  the  cultivation  of  personal  piety  1  What 
your  appointed  seasons  of  seclusion,  with  which  nothing^is  to 
be  suffered  to  interfere  1  What  the  means  and  methods  of  your 
self-discipline  1  What  the  system  of  your  studious  prepara- 
tion for  heaven  1 

These,  and  such  as  these,  are  practical  questions,  which,  if 
grappled  with  in  time  and  with  enough  of  manly  vigour,  may 
be  so  settled  as  to  make  all  your  onward  path  comparatively 
one  of  plainness,  pleasantness,  and  peace.  You  may  take  your 
ground,  unfurl]  your  standard,  and  announce  your  watch- 
word, so  unequivocally  that  few  ever  after  wiU  think  of  try- 
ing to  shake  or  to  disconcert  you.  But  alas !  too  generally,  as  to 
all  these  matters,  you  have  no  definite  plan  of  life  at  all.  Some 
vague  ideas  of  what  may  be  best  you  have  floating  loosely  on 


TIIOROUGII-GOING  CHRISTIANITY.  1G3 

the  surface  of  your  thoughts  ;  but  you  have  determined 
nothing  ;  you  have  made  up  your  minds  to  nothing.  And  so 
you  go  forth,  and  are  at  sea  with  neither  chart  nor  plan  of 
voyage,  trusting  much  to  impulse,  and  leaving  much  to  cir- 
cumstances. Hence  vacillation,  fitfulness,  inconsistency,  ex- 
cess and  deficiency,  by  turns.  The  opportunity  of  setting  up 
a  high  standard  and  a  high  aim  is  lost ;  and  soon,  amid  the 
snares  of  worldly  conformity  and  the  awkwardness  of  the 
false  shame  that  will  not  let  you  retrace  your  steps,  you  deeply 
sigh  for  the  day  of  your  visitation,  when  you  might  have 
started  from  a  higher  platform,  and  run  a  higher  race,  than 
you  can  now  hope  ever  to  realise. 

II.  Tlie  inexcusableness  of  the  sin  in  question  may  appear 
from  what  has  been  already  said,  so  that  a  few  brief  remarks 
here  may  suffice.  Hear  the  remonstrance  which  God  addresses 
to  Israel  (ver.  1),  and  consider  his  threefold  appeal.  Look 
back  to  the  past,  and  call  to  mind  from  what  a  state  the  Lord 
has  rescued  you,  at  what  a  price,  by  what  a  work  of  power. 
Look  around  on  your  present  circumstances  ;  see  how  the  Lord 
has  performed  all  that  he  sware  to  your  fathers ;  the  land  is 
yours  ;  and  it  is  a  goodly  land.  And  if,  in  looking  forward 
to  the  future,  you  have  any  misgivings,  has  he  not  said,  I 
will  never  break  my  covenant  -with  you  1  What  can  you  ask 
more  ?  A  past  redemption,  a  present  possession,  and,  for  the 
future,  a  covenant  never  to  be  broken.  Are  these  considera- 
tions not  sufficient  to  bind  you  to  the  whole  work  and  warfare 
of  the  high  calling  of  God,  and  to  make  cowardice  and  com- 
promise exceeding  sinful  ? 

Oh  !  if  there  be  any  here,  who  are  still  in  the  first  fresh 
morning  of  their  Christian  life,  their  hearts  yet  warm,  and 
their  bosoms  yet  young ;  or  if  there  be  any  who,  at  some 
communion  season  or  under  some  providential  visitation,  may 
have  been  reawakened,  through  new  acts  of  repentance  and 


164  THOKOUGH-GOING   CHKISTIANITY. 

faith,  to  their  first  love  from  which  they  had  been  beginning 
to  fall  away  ;  we  beseech  you  to  make  full  proof  of  these  graci- 
ous dealings  of  God  with  your  souls.  Where  were  you  but 
yesterday  1  Sinking  in  the  horrible  pit  and  the  miry  clay. 
Where  are  you  to-day  1  With  your  feet  set  on  a  rock,  and  a 
new  song  put  into  your  mouth.  And  will  you  now  hesitate 
and  hang  back,  when  God  bids  you  press  on  to  complete 
victory  and  triumph  ;  now  that  you  have  his  own  infallible 
assurance,  "  I  will  never  leave  you  nor  forsake  you"  1  Let 
your  resolutions  and  endeavours,  your  vows,  and  prayers,  and 
efforts,  your  fidelity  in  ceasing  to  do  evil,  your  zeal  in  learn- 
ing to  do  well,  bear  some  worthy  proportion  to  what  God 
has  done,  is  doing,  and  will  yet  do,  for  you.  We  summon 
you.  to  decision,  thorough,  out-and-out,  resolute  decision.  We 
call  upon  you  to  form  for  yourselves,  or  rather  to  take  from 
God's  word,  a  lofty  and  pure  ideal  of  what  practical  Christi- 
anity is.  No  truce,  no  league,  no  terms  of  amity,  with  the 
world,  its  maxims  or  its  men.  No  acquiescence  in  a  mere 
pittance  and  fragment  of  the  portion  God  has  in  store  for 
you. 

What !  will  you,  on  the  very  first  apprehension  of  your 
escape  from  wrath  and  your  admission  to  favour,  be  in  haste 
to  take  your  ease,  and  suffer  God's  enemies  and  your  own  to 
take  their  ease  too  1 

Sweet  indeed  is  the  sense  of  sin  freely  pardoned  through 
the  blood  of  an  adequate  and  all-sufficient  atonement ;  pre- 
cious the  first  glimpse  of  his  reconciled  countenance,  beaming 
upon  you  who  are  in  Christ,  with  the  very  same  holy  com- 
placency with  which  it  ever  beams  upon  him.  But  thou 
shalt  see  greater  things  than  these  as  child  of  God  and  soldier 
of  the  cross.  Up  then.  Eest  not,  be  not  satisfied,  while 
pne  inch  of  the  whole  breadth  of  Christian  perfection  is 
unreached ;  while  one  single  element  of  opposition  to  God's 
will  lurks  within  you. 


THOROUGH-GOING  CHRISTIANITY.  165 

Aim  high,  we  repeat ;  resolve  bravely ;  be  decided.  God 
will  never  break  his  covenant  with  you ;  break  ye  not  your 
covenant  with  him.  And  be  sure  of  one  thing,  that  a  whole 
is  after  all  far  easier,  as  well  as  far  happier,  than  a  half 
Christianity.  The  hardest  of  all  bondage  is  to  serve  two 
masters.  The  most  hopeless  of  all  tasks  is  to  work  out  a 
fragmentary  salvation.  But  be  working  out  your  whole 
salvation,  with  that  scrupulous,  sensitive,  conscientious  fear 
and  trembling  which  is  inspired  by  the  sense  of  God  working 
in  you  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure ;  go  forth  at 
once,  manfully,  honourably,  as  not  almost  but  altogether 
Christians ;  have  done  at  once  and  for  ever  with  all  half 
measures  ;  be  wholly  on  the  Lord's  side  ;  follow  the  Lord 
fully.  Then  will  all  the  wretched  entanglements  of  a  divided 
choice  and  doubtful  mind  be  broken  as  nets  from  your  feet. 
No  more  embarrassment ;  no  more  hesitancy  ;  no  more  hang- 
ing of  the  head  in  presence  of  those  to  whom,  by  your  facile 
or  faithless  compliances,  you  have  given  an  advantage  over 
you.  Your  trumpet  will  no  more  give  an  uncertain  sound. 
Your  testimony  will  no  more  falter.  Men  will  take  know- 
ledge of  you  that  you  have  been  with  Jesus,  and  that  he  is 
ever  with  you ;  and  as  you  run,  and  are  not  weary,  as  you 
walk,  and  do  not  faint ;  your  path  will  be  as  "  the  shining 
light,  that  shineth  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day." 

IIL  One  word,  in  closing,  as  to  the  dangerous  and  dis- 
astrous consequences  of  the  sin  in  question.  Hear  the  awful 
sentence  of  God,  "  I  will  not  drive  them  out  from  before  you ; 
but  they  shall  be  as  thorns  in  your  sides,  and  their  gods  shall 
be  a  snare  unto  you"  (ver.  3) ;  and  then  see  how  the  children 
of  Israel  lift  up  their  voice  and  weep  (ver.  4).  Well  is  the 
place  named  Bochim  :  it  is  indeed  a  melting  scene.  The 
golden  opportunity  is  lost ;  their  error  is  not  to  be  retrieved  ; 
its  bitter  fruits  are  to  be  reaped  from  henceforth  many  days. 


166  THOKOUGH-GOING  CHKISTIANITY. 

A  sad  sight  truly ;  but  sadder,  if  possible,  is  the  spectacle 
of  a  Christian  professor  suffering,  in  after  years,  from  the 
insufficiency  of  his  first  works  and  the  first  foundation  of  his 
Christianity ;  from  his  having  allowed  some  evil  thing  in  his 
bosom,  some  Achan  in  his  camp ;  from  his  having  stopped 
short  when  he  should  have  gone  on  unto  perfection. 

At  the  time,  the  shortcoming,  the  compromise,  the  unstead- 
fastness  and  indecision,  may  be  so  small  and  trifling,  the 
plague-spot  may  be  so  faint,  as  scarcely  to  be  noticeable  at  all 
amid  much  that  is  promising  and  fair.  But  wait  a  little.  By 
and  by,  the  romance,  as  it  were,  of  the  Christian  life  is  over, 
and  its  real  history  begins.  The  every-day  duties  and  trials 
of  the  Gospel  come,  in  which  you  have  need,  not  of  excite- 
ment, but  of  patience,  that  after  having  done  the  will  of  God, 
you  may  inherit  the  promises. 

And  here,  how  soon  may  you  have  cause  to  cry  out  with 
bitter  weeping,  "  Would  that  I  had  started  fairer  for  the  race  ! 
would  that  I  had  pitched  my  song  at  a  higher  note,  and  made 
my  footing  surer  on  the  rock  of  my  salvation  !  would  that  I 
had  set  out  with  a  holier  standard  and  a  more  heavenly  aim  ! 
that  my  walk  with  God  had  from  the  first  been  closer ;  my 
communion  with  him  more  unbroken  and  more  joyous ;  my 
separation  from  the  world,  and  the  rooting  out  of  sin,  in- 
dwelling sin,  more  thorough  and  unsparing  !  Ah !  I  see  now 
what  steps  I  might  then  have  taken  for  following  up  and 
following  out  the  good  work  begun ;  with  what  ease,  com- 
paratively, I  might,  by  God's  blessing,  have  mastered  this  or 
that  besetting  lust,  and  bid  a  brief  and  final  adieu  to  this  or 
that  instance  of  vain  worldly  conformity.  But  woe  is  me  for 
the  hard  inheritance  that  now  falls  to  me  from  my  early  weak- 
ness and  guile  !  The  root  of  bitterness  that,  instead  of  digging 
clean  out  of  the  soil,  I  was  satisfied  Avith  cutting  down  and 
decently  covering  over,  springs  up  to  trouble  me ;  my  half- 
tolerated  mdulgence  of  the  flesh  becomes  a  thorn  in  the  flesh  ; 


THOROUGH-GOING  CHRISTIANITY.  167 

Satan  makes  it  his  messenger  to  buffet  me ;  for  he  can  well 
avail  himself  of  all  my  slips  and  stumblings ;  the  terms  on 
which  I  have  consented  to  be  with  the  world  can  scarcely 
now  be  interfered  with  ;  and  altogether,  I  find  myself  fondly 
sigliing  for  the  lost  day  of  my  espousals,  when  I  might  have 
learned  lessons  of  holy  love  hardly  to  be  acquired  now,  and 
rid  myself  of  drawbacks  and  encumbrances  which  now — shall 
I  ever  shake  off  ] " 

Need  we  remind  you  of  the  thousands  and  ten  thousands 
in  the  professing  Christian  world  to  whom  such  experience  as 
this  is  absolutely  fatal  1  They  did  run  well.  Once  they  had 
many  movements,  many  relentings,  much  even  of  gladness  in 
hearing  the  gospel  message.  They  made  a  fair  show ;  they 
seemed  to  bear  fruit ;  they  were  much  in  earnest,  so  far  as 
they  went ;  they  were  lively,  active,  enthusiastic.  But  they 
would  not  go  in  to  possess  the  whole  land.  They  would  not 
slay  every  foe.  And  soon  they  have  made  shipwreck  of  their 
faith ;  they  have  returned  again  to  the  world  and  the  world's 
folly  ;  they  have  drawn  back  unto  perdition. 

Ay,  and  even  if  God  should  not  suffer  you  thus  altogether 
to  be  cast  away,  oh !  consider  what  it  is  to  be  saved  indeed, 
yet  so  as  by  fire ;  to  have  a  burning  in  and  about  you  of  much 
structure  of  wood,  hay,  stubble,  scarcely  leaving  th^.  bare 
foundation  for  you  to  stand  on  at  the  last.  Think  what  sharp 
dealings  on  the  part  of  God,  in  very  fatherly  love  to  your 
souls,  your  uncertain  dealings  with  him  and  his  command- 
ments render  necessary ; — what  chastenings  and  stripes ;  what 
hidings  of  his  countenance ;  what  visitations  of  his  displeasure ; 
what  seasons  of  dark  depression  and  gloomy  fear  !  And,  on 
your  part,  how  is  your  peace  marred,  your  joy  broken,  your 
usefulness  impaired,  by  the  miserable  fruits  of  your  half 
measures  and  partial  counsel  in  God's  cause  1  Brethren,  let 
there  be  an  end  of  guile.  Let  your  bearing,  as  freely  justified 
by  grace  and  sanctified  wholly  by  the  Spirit,  be  erect,  upright. 


168  THOROUGH-GOING  CHRISTIANITY. 

open.  Go  ye  forth  in  the  Lord's  name  to  do  all  his  pleasure  ; 
so  shall  ye  in  the  end  save  your  own  souls,  and  save,  too,  under 
God,  the  souls  of  not  a  few  who,  smitten  with  admiration  of 
the  image  which,  however  feebly,  you  yet  reflect,  not  broken, 
but  entire,  may  glorify  God  in  the  day  of  their  visitation. 
We  press,  then,  a  thorough-going  decision  in  Christianity 

1.  On  you  who  are  starting  for  the  first  time,  or  starting 
anew  and  afresh  after  some  blessed  season  of  revival,  first,  for 
your  own  sakes,  that  you  may  not  treasure  up  for  yourselves 
future  disappointments,  falls,  backslidings,  chastisements,  if 
not  even  utter  apostasy  and  ruin  ;  secondly,  for  the  glory  of 
God  and  good  of  souls  ;  that  you  may  commend  the  doctrine, 
that  you  may  be  free  from  such  inconsistencies  as  might  prove 
stumbling-blocks  and  offences  to  inquirers  ;  that  you  may  win 
souls  to  Christ.  True  kindness  to  the  world  is  faithful  separa- 
tion from  it.  Live  not  as  if  you  thought,  or  would  encourage 
them  to  think,  that  the  distinction  between  your  state  and 
theirs  is  small.  Live,  and  show  you  live,  as  believing  that  the 
world  lieth  in  wickedness,  and  that  grace  alone,  the  grace  you 
have  received,  can  save  others.  Live  as  able  to  say,  "  I  would 
to  God  that  all  ye  were  not  almost,  but  altogether, such  as  I  am." 

2.  On  you  who  are  mourning  over  lost  opportunities  in  time 
past.  Let  not  your  grief  expend  itself  in  mere  idle  weeping. 
Seek  forgiveness  anew  by  sacrifice.  So  did  the  Israelites  ; 
so  may  you.  You  may  thus  be  again  restored,  and  if  not  put 
in  possession  of  all  the  advantage  you  once  might  have  had 
for  a  godly  life,  you  may  yet  be  greatly  quickened.  Eepent, 
do  your  first  works,  and  your  first  love  may  be  kindled  again. 
Have  recourse  to  sacrifice ;  cleave  to  Christ ;  look  on  him  whom 
you  have  pierced  ;  look  on  him  as  pierced  for  you  ;  and  learn 
now  to  hate  with  a  perfect  hatred  all  that  is  hateful  to  him,  and 
offer  the  prayer  :  "  Search  me,  0  God,  and  know  my  heart ; 
try  me,  and  know  my  thoughts;  and  see  if  there  be  any 
wicked  way  in  me,  and  lead  me  in  the  way  everlasting." 


THOKOUGH-GOING  CHRISTIANITY.  169 

3.  On  you  who  are  yet  strangers  to  the  power  and  practice 
of  the  Gospel.  We  entreat  you  to  understand  what  sort  of 
Christianity  we  urge  on  you  ;  not  such  as  you  see  in  too  many 
professors, — ^joyless,  lifeless,  vague,  doubtful,  undefined.  AVe 
press  a  whole  Christ  and  a  whole  Christianity.  It  is  no  half 
salvation  God  offers  to  you.  There  are  no  half  measures 
with  him ;  all  full,  free,  unconditional,  unreserved.  Taste  and 
see.  Come  !  be  wholly  the  Lord's,  ]\Iake  fair  trial ;  not 
half,  but  whole-heartedly.  "  Choose  you  this  day  whom  ye  will 
serve." 


170  •  THE  OATH  OF  GOD. 


X. 

THE  OATH  or  GOD. 

"  That  by  two  immiitaUe  tMngs,  in  whicli  it  was  impossible  for  God 
to  lie,  we  might  have  a  strong  consolation,  who  have  fled  for 
refuge  to  lay  hold  ux^on  the  hope  set  before  us." — Hebrews  vi.  18. 

The  divine  oath  is  one  of  the  mysteries  of  revelation.  To 
one  duly  considering  the  majesty  of  God,  and  his  relation  to 
his  creatures,  nothing  can  be  well  more  awful  than  his  swear- 
ing to  us,  and  swearing  by  himself.  The  form  of  the  oath 
is  given  frequently  elsewhere  in  Scripture  :  "  As  I  live,  saith 
the  Lord"  (ISTum.  xiv.  21).  But  this  is  the  only  place  where 
the  principle  or  rationale  of  it  is  explained. 

The  explanation  may  be  considered,  first,  in  its  own  graci- 
ous nature  :  What  is  it  1  and,  secondly,  in  its  application  : 
What  is  its  manifold  use  1 

I.  The  meaning  of  the  divine  oath  and  its  graciousness 
fall  to  be  considered. 

1.  The  divine  oath  is  represented  as  analogous  to  an  oath 
among  men,  and  yet  different  from  it.  The  design  in  both  is 
the  same ;  it  is  for  confirmation,  whether  of  a  fact  or  of  a 
promise ;  and  so  for  the  ending  of  all  strife,  debate,  and 
doubt  (vers.  16,  17).  There  is  a  difference,  however,  between 
the  two  oaths,  arising  out  of  the  difference  between  the  par- 
ties swearing.  Men  swear  by  the  greater  (ver.  1 6).  But  this 
God  cannot  do  ;  and  therefore  he  swears  by  himself  (ver.  17). 
Still  the  appeal  in  both  cases  is  virtually  the  same.     When 


THE  OATH  OF  GOD.  171 

I  swear,  I  call  in  as  a  witness  to  the  transaction  to  whicli  my 
oath  relates  a  Being  above  myself,  on  whom  I  am  dependent, 
and  to  whom  I  am  responsible.  My  oath  is  a  virtual  chal- 
lenge to  him  to  come  forward  and  guarantee  my  truth.  Hence 
the  security  of  the  oath  is  practically  variable.  If  I  swear 
by  one  whom  I  despise  or  distrust,  the  oath  is  a  farce.  If  I 
fear  him,  while  you  do  not,  the  oath  is  valuable  to  you,  simply 
as  it  tells  upon  me.  If  both  of  us  acknowledge  the  Being 
invoked,  the  assurance  becomes  the  strongest  that  can  be 
given. 

But  what  of  the  divine  oath?  What  are  the  two  im- 
mutable things  which  the  oath  of  God,  swearing  by  him- 
self, brings  upon  the  field  1  Some  say,  the  word  and  the 
oath  ;  others  again,  two  oaths  ;  the  one  being  God's  oath  to 
Abraham  (ver.  14) ;  and  the  other,  the  oath  excluding  the 
unbelieving  IsraeHtes  from  Canaan  (ch.  iii.) ;  or  else  the 
oath  consecrating  Christ  to  be  High-priest  (ch.  vii.)  Both 
explanations  are  unsatisfactory.  Evidently  the  apostle  means 
to  show  how  the  solemnity  of  the  divine  oath  adds  weight 
to  the  simple  divine  word  or  promise.  But  it  is  a  poor  way 
of  doing  so  to  tell  us  that  the  word  or  promise,  and  the  oath, 
are  two  sejDarate  things  ;  in  that  view,  two  promises  without 
the  oath  would  do  equally  well.  And  it  is  a  stUl  poorer 
expedient  to  substitute  two  separate  immutable  oaths  for  the 
two  immutable  things  that  give  to  every  divine  oath  its  force 
and  sanctity.  What  can  they  be  but  the  divLue  Avord  and 
the  divine  name  or  nature  ? 

Take  first  the  divine  word.  That  is  an  immutable 
thing.  The  word  or  j)romise  of  God  is  always  sure  and 
trustworthy.  Even  when  the  matter  to  which  it  refers  is  ia 
itself  indifferent ;  still,  his  word  once  spoken, — his  promise 
once  made, — is  unchangeable,  and  fixes  the  event,  under  the 
conditions  of  the  Avord,  or  the  promise,  express  or  implied,  as 
certainly  as  if  it  were  abeady  and  iirevocably  past. 


172  THE  OATH  OF  GOD. 

But  take  in  now  the  second  of  the  two  immutable  things 
wherein  it  is  impossible  for  God  to  lie ;  his  name,  his  character, 
his  nature,  his  being  and  continuing  to  be  such  as  he  is.  What 
new  security  is  thus  given  1  Is  it  not  in  substance  this  : — That 
God  discovers  to  us  a  ground  or  reason  of  what  he  designs  to 
do  farther  back  than  the  mere  sovereign  and  discretionary  ^a^ 
of  his  absolute  will ;  deeply  fixed  and  rooted  in  the  very 
essence  of  his  being  1  Is  it  not  that  he  puts  the  certainty  of 
that  to  which  he  swears,  not  only  on  the  ground  of  his  hav- 
ing intimated  it  beforehand,  but  on  the  ground  of  a  stronger 
necessity,  in  the  very  nature  of  things,  and  in  his  own  nature  ; 
lying  far  back  and  far  down,  in  his  being  God,  and  being  the 
God  he  is  1  The  thing  is  to  be  so,  not  merely  because  God 
has  said  it  shall  be  so,  but  also  because  it  cannot  but  be  so, 
God  continuing  to  be,  and  to  be  the  God  he  is.  This  is 
what,  in  swearing  by  himself,  he  means  to  tell  us. 

It  is  an  amazing  thought  !  That  God,  not  content  with 
giving  to  you,  to  all  of  you  who  will  but  do  liim  the  justice 
of  believing  him,  his  sure  word  of  promise,  assuring  to  you 
eternal  life,  should  open  to  you  the  very  inmost  secret  of 
his  nature,  and  its  unchangeableness  ;  and  should  bid  you  see 
your  salvation  bound  up  indissolubly  with  his  own  immutable 
and  everlasting  glory  ;  surely  that  is  a  great  thought.  It  is 
not  merely  that  you  may  be  saved,  on  certain  terms  to  be  ful- 
filled by  you.  But,  believing  in  his  Son  now,  you  are  on  such 
a  footing  with  him,  in  virtue  of  his  free  and  gracious  dealing 
with  you  as  one  with  his  Son,  that  you  cannot  but  be  saved, 
because  God  lives,  and  is  the  God  he  is  !  It  amounts  to  this, 
that  your  perishing  is  represented  as  alike  and  equally  impos- 
sible with  God's  ceasing  to  be,  or  to  be  what  he  is.  Your 
eternal  welfare  and  God's  essential  immutability  are  insepa- 
rably welded  together  ;  blended  ;  married  ;  so  as  to  be  no 
more  twain  but  one.  It  is  indeed,  I  repeat,  an  amazing  thought ! 
Well  may  it  be  spoken  of  as  an  act  of  superabounding  grace 


THE  OATH   OF  GOD.  173 

and  condescension  on  the  part  of  God  ;  this  swearing  by  him- 
self,    So  accordingly  it  is  represented  to  be. 

2.  The  graciousness  of  the  oath  is  as  wonderful  as  its 
meaning.  It  is  indeed  more  so.  Even  among  men;  if  the 
heai't  is  true,  and  the  eye,  even  turned  on  empty  space,  beams 
keen  with  honour ;  there  is  a  certain  feehng  of  repugnance  to 
being  called  to  swear.  And  undoubtedly  no  one  who  pos- 
sesses right  feeling,  as  regards  the  sacredness  of  a  spoken 
word,  Avill  volunteer  an  oath.  It  is  on  this  principle  that  our 
Lord  gives  forth  his  utterance  against  not  only  false  but  pro- 
miscuous swearing.  It  is  this  appeal  to  the  sense  of  honour 
that  really  explains  his  application  of  the  third  Command- 
ment. Why  should  you  back  your  asseverations  by  solemn 
appeals  to  heaven,  or  to  earth,  or  to  Jerusalem,  or  to  your  own 
head  ;  as  if  you  had  power  over  these  things,  and  might  put 
them  in  pawn  for  your  word  1  But  on  another  ground,  why 
should  you  do  so  1  Is  not  your  doing  so,  your  swearing 
ultroneously,  an  admission  that  your  simple  word  is  not  to 
be  rehed  on  1  Why  not  rather  stand  on  your  right  to  be 
believed  for  your  mere  word  itself?  Let  your  yea  be  yea, 
and  your  nay  nay  !  "  Let  your  communication  be  Yea,  yea  ; 
Nay,  nay  :  for  whatsoever  is  more  than  these  cometh  of 
evd." 

Yes  ;  whatsoever  is  more  than  these  cometh  of  evil.  The 
necessity  of  superadding  to  a  simple  affirmation  the  solemnity 
of  swearing,  arises  out  of  the  evil  that  is  in  man.  He  is  so 
prone  to  falsehood  that  his  fellow-men  are  afraid  to  trust 
him  unless  they  put  him  upon  oath.  Nor  may  he  refuse, 
when  competently  asked,  to  swear.  For  he  cannot  claim  to 
be  held  entirely  exempt  from  the  general  evil  of  humanity  j 
nor  can  he  refuse  the  security  which  society  is  wont  to  de- 
mand. He  cannot  deny  the  reasonableness,  and  indeed  the 
necessity,  of  the  demand.  David  may  have  been  hasty  in 
saying :  all  men  are  liars.     But  the  evil,  at  any  rate,  is  so 


174  THE  OATH  OF  GOD. 

common  as  to  make  tlie  adoption  of  this  precaution,  for 
wliicli  ample  divine  warrant  may  be  pleaded,  an  indispens- 
able function,  as  it  is  an  uncliallengeable  right,  of  all  lawful 
magistracy. 

Thus,  while  private  and  voluntary  swearing  is  virtually 
an  ultroneous  confession  of  evil ;  public  and  official  swearing 
is  a  necessary  safeguard  against  evil.  I  will  not,  of  my  own 
accord,  swear ;  for  that  amounts  to  an  admission  that  my 
veracity  needs  that  sort  of  backing.  But  I  dare  not  refuse 
to  swear  when  required  by  legitimate  authority.  For  I 
acknowledge  the  reasonableness  of  the  suspicion  which  men 
entertain  of  all  human  testimony  ;  and  their  right  to  protect 
themselves  by  insisting  on  all  the  corroboration  which  the 
most  solemn  appeal  to  heaven  can  give.  Still,  whatever  is 
more  than  yea  yea,  nay  nay,  cometh  of  evil.  It  is  of  evil 
that  this  practice  of  swearing,  even  when  most  right  and 
fitting,  cometh  among  men  on  earth  ;  of  the  evil  of  men's 
deceitfulness,  their  proneness  to  prevaricate  and  lie.  It  is  at 
the  best  a  necessary  evil. 

And  is  it  anything  else  when  it  is  God  who  swears  from 
heaven?  Of  that  oath  also,  of  that  oath  pre-eminently, 
may  it  not  be  said  that  it  cometh  of  evil  ?  ISTot  indeed  of 
the  evil  of  anything  false  or  suspicious  on  the  part  of  him 
who  swears  ;  but  of  the  evil  heart  of  unbelief  in  those  to 
whom  he  swears.  Evil !  Does  it  not  come  of  evil  that  the 
most  high  God  should  be  obliged,  ere  he  can  hope  to  be 
believed  by  the  creature  he  has  made,  to  have  recourse  to 
the  expedient  of  an  oath  ?  Evil !  Does  it  not  come  of  evil 
that  the  Amen,  the  Faithful  and  True,  should  have  to  satisfy 
the  insulting  scruples  of  doubting  men  by  what  you  and  I, 
when  we  are  shut  up  to  it,  feel  to  be  a  humiliation  all  but 
intolerable  ? 

Were  ever  any  of  you  in  the  M-itness-box  before  a  judge 
and  jury  of  your  countrymen  ?     Had  ever  any  of  you  ten- 


THE  OATH  OF  GOD.  l75 

dered  to  you,  in  lowered  tone,  from  the  solemn  bench,  the 
simple  hut  sublime  form  of  words  by  which  our  law  seeks  to 
bind  the  consciences  of  all  who  give  evidence  before  its 
tribunals  1  Could  you  repeat  the  words  without  a  sort  of 
shudder  in  your  bosom,  and  a  blush  almost  of  shame  upon 
your  face  1  Was  it  not  as  if  you  were  wounded  in  your 
honourable  self-esteem  1  And  were  you  not  inclined  still  to 
hang  your  head,  even  when  reflection  reconciled  you  to  the 
necessity  of  the  procedure  1  And  you  blush  still,  if  not 
for  yourself,  yet  for  the  evil,  the  deplorable  and  universal 
evil,  of  human  falsehood,  out  of  which  the  stern  necessity 
arose. 

And  what  then  are  you  to  think  of  the  evil  in  you,  the 
inveterate  evil  of  a  doubting,  distrusting,  unbelieving  heart, 
that  makes  it  necessary  for  God  to  take  such  a  step  for  the 
removal  of  your  miserable  questionings  and  fears  1  And  Avhat, 
on  the  other  hand,  are  you  to  think  of  that  God  who,  when 
nothing  but  such  a  step  will  suffice,  does  not  refuse  to  take  it  ? 
Claim  on  your  part  there  is  none.  IS^o  right  or  reason  have 
you  to  ask  such  a  kind  of  satisfaction  from  God.  Most  pre- 
sumptuous, most  impious,  is  your  hesitating  to  receive,  with 
instant  and  unqualified  fulness  of  trust,  his  mere  simple, 
naked,  unconfirmed,  and  uncorroborated  word.  Truly,  it  is 
the  superabundance  of  grace,  the  very  excess  and  overflowing 
exuberance  of  grace,  Avhen  he  so  wonderfully  condescends  to 
your  infirmity  as  to  interpose  the  sanction  of  an  oath ;  and  of 
such  an  oath !  "When,  swearing  by  himself,  he  refers  you 
back  behind  his  word  to  his  essential  nature ;  and  opening  up 
all  that  is  perfect  and  glorious  and  unchangeable  in  his  in- 
effable being  and  adorable  perfections,  would  convince  you  at 
last,,  not  only  that  the  things  spoken  by  him  will  come  to  pass 
because  of  what  he  says,  but  that  they  must  come  to  pass 
because  of  what  he  is ;  and  that  sooner  shall  he  cease  to  live 
and  to  possess  the  all-perfect  character  that  belongs  to  him. 


176  THE  OATH  OF  GOD. 

than  your  salvation,  0  believer  in  Jesus,  shaU  fail  of  its 
accomplishment,  or  you,  the  very  least  of  his  little  ones,  shall 
perish.     Such  is  the  virtue,  such  the  grace,  of  the  divine  oath. 

11.  The  uses  to  which  it  is  applied  in  Scripture  may  serve 
still  farther  to  illustrate  the  real  import  and  the  graciousness 
of  the  oath.  It  may  be  considered  in  tvro  aspects  or  relations 
,in  connection  with  the  constitution  of  the  mediatorial  economy 
in  the  person  and  work  of  the  great  High  Priest ;  and  in 
connection  with  the  carrying  out  of  that  economy. 

"We  have  an  instance  of  the  divine  oath  in  connection 
with  the  mediatorial  priesthood  of  Christ.  And  what  is  very 
seasonable  and  providential,  we  have  an  ample  inspired  ex- 
planation of  it,  as  viewed  in  that  connection.  I  refer  to  the 
oracle  in  Psalm  ex.  4,  as  expounded  in  Hebrews  vii.  In 
that  exposition  much  weight  is  attached  to  this  one  point  of 
distinction  between  the  Levitical  priesthood  and  that  of  Christ, 
that  in  the  last  there  was  the  interposition  of  the  divine  oath, 
which  had  no  place  in  the  other  (vers.  20,  22,  28).  The 
writer  evidently  regards  this  distinction  in  the  constitution  of 
the  priesthood  as  materially  affecting  the  character  of  the 
covenant  or  dispensation  with  which  it  is  mediatorially  con- 
nected (vers.  21,  22).  To  be  made  a  priest  with  an  oath  is 
not  only  a  higher  honour  than  to  be  made  a  priest  without  an 
oath  \  it  moreover  fits  the  person  so  invested  with  the  ofiice 
for  being  the  surety  of  a  better  covenant.  But  how  is  this  ? 
it  may  be  fairly  asked. 

Let  it  be  remembered  that  the  oath  brings  upon  the  field, 
not  only  the  divine  word,  but  the  divine  name  or  nature. 
The  priesthood  made  without  the  oath  is  doubtless  ordained 
by  God.  It  is  ordained,  however,  not  as  having  its  ground  or 
reason  in  the  essential  nature  of  God,  but  as  founded  upon  a 
sovereign  and  discretionary  exercise  of  his  will.     The  law  or 


THE  OATH  OF  GOD.  177 

word  of  God  makes  priests  of  men  having  infirmity.  And,  so 
far  as  it  goes,  the  law  or  Avord  so  appointing  them  is  immu- 
table. The  mere  announcement  of  the  divine  purpose  in  the 
matter  secures  its  accomplishment. 

But  that  purpose  so  announced  is  not  a  necessity  of  the 
divine  nature.  It  is  an  arbitrary  or  discretionary  act  of  the 
divine  prerogative ;  an  act  upon  which  God  might  or  might 
not  resolve,  without  the  essential  perfections  of  his  character 
being  at  all  affected.  It  is  quite  otherwise  with  the  arrange- 
ment to  which  the  divine  oath  refers. 

The  priesthood  of  Christ  is  no  mere  arbitrary,  discretionary 
ordinance,  which,  as  being  expedient  to-day,  God  may  institute 
by  his  sovereign  authority  in  his  word  or  law,  and  which,  by 
the  same  sovereign  authority,  he  may  supersede  to-morrow,  as 
no  longer  needed  and  no  longer  useful.  No  ;  it  is  an  office 
having  its  deep  root  in  the  very  nature,  the  essential  glory 
and  perfection,  of  God  himself.  It  is  therefore  unchangeable, 
not  merely  as  God's  word,  but  as  his  very  being,  is  unchange- 
able. The  word  of  God  is  indeed  immutable,  under  the 
conditions  attached  to  it  when  it  is  uttered.  But  it  may  be, 
according  to  these  conditions,  the  basis  of  what  is  merely 
temporary,  insufficient,  and  provisional.  What  is  based  on 
the  absolute  immutable  nature  of  God  must  necessarily  be 
both  permanent  and  perfect. 

Consider  in  this  view  the  two  contrasted  priesthoods,  and 
the  two  dispensations  with  Avhich  they  are  respectively  con- 
nected. 

Aaron  and  his  successors,  the  priests  made  by  the  law 
without  the  oath,  offer  sacrifices  and  are  the  mediators  of  a 
covenant.  The  law  or  word  of  God  sanctions  both  their 
office  and  their  offering.  But  there  is  nothing  in  the  person 
of  any  of  these  priests,  or  in  any  of  the  sacrifices  offered,  that 
makes  him  or  it  satisfying  and  suitable  to  the  divine  nature. 
On  the  contrary,  there  is  a  manifest  incongruity.     They  are 

N 


178  THE   OATH  OF  GOD. 

not  adequate  to  the  real  character  and  government  of  God. 
They  do  not  meet  the  case.  A  frail  mortal,  himself  a  sinner, 
and  liable  to  the  doom  of  sin,  never  can  be  such  a  mediator 
as  the  holy  character  and  righteous  government  of  the 
offended  Lawgiver  requires.  The  blood  of  bulls  and  of  goats 
can  never  take  away  sin. 

Hence,  whatever  authority  the  word  of  the  law,  or  the 
divine  appointment  in  the  law,  may  give  to  such  a  priest  and 
to  his  service,  neither  he  nor  it  has  any  standing  within  the 
circle  of  God's  essential  and  eternal  perfections.  And  both 
he  and  it,  with  the  economy  to  which  they  belong,  made 
by  a  word  and  by  a  word  dissolved,  pass  from  the  world  and 
the  church  of  God,  as  things  that  decay,  and  wax  old,  and 
vanish  away. 

But  the  word  of  the  oath  makes  a  very  different  high 
priest,  and  a  very  different  ministry  of  sacrifice.  He  who  is 
thus  made  high  priest  is  not  a  mere  man  having  infirmity  and 
not  suffered  to  continue  by  reason  of  death,  but  the  Son,  who 
continueth  ever,  consecrated  for  evermore ;  and  the  sacrifice 
he  has  to  offer  is  not  that  of  a  mere  animal  victim,  ahke 
unfit  to  satisfy  a  just  God  and  to  represent  guilty  men,  and  so 
needing  to  be  repeated  daily  in  the  courts  of  an  earthly 
tabernacle.  It  is  the  sacrifice  of  himself;  the  offering  of 
himself  once,  and  once  for  all,  in  his  meritorious  obedience 
and  in  his  penal  sufferings  ;  and  the  presenting  of  his  one 
sacrifice  continually  before  the  throne  on  high. 

Here  is  a  mediator, — here  is  a  mediation, — in  true  and 
fuU  harmony  with  the  real  nature  of  God  ;  and  therefore 
truly  and  fully  fitted  to  meet  the  real  exigencies  of  men ;  a 
worthy  mediator,  a  worthy  mediation,  for  whom  and  for 
which  a  far  deeper  reason  can  be  given  than  the  mere 
discretionary  fiat  of  the  sovereign  will  of  God.  It  is  a 
mediator,  it  is  a  mediation,  that,  if  constituted  at  aU,  must 
be  constituted  by  the  word  of  the  oath.     For  the  essential 


THE  OATH  OF  GOD.  179 

attributes  and  perfections  of  the  Godhead,  to  which  God 
appeals  when  he  swears  by  himself,  are  all  bound  up  in  this 
great  economy.  It  is  not  merely  in  respect  of  what  the 
Father  says,  that  the  Son  holds  the  office  and  discharges  the 
functions  of  High  Priest  and  Mediator ;  but  also,  and  much 
more,  in  respect  of  what  the  Father  is. 

The  successors  of  Aaron  being  made  priests  without  the 
oath ;  they  and  their  services  may  all  be  superseded  and 
become  obsolete  and  effete,  without  any  essential  feature  in 
the  nature  of  God  being  touched,  or  any  principle  of  his 
government  being  compromised.  But  God  himself  must 
change,  or  must  cease  to  live ;  before  Christ  his  eternal  Son, 
to  whom  he  swears,  "  Thou  art  a  priest  for  ever,"  can  cease 
to  be  an  effectual  mediator,  or  his  sacrifice  to  be  an  all- 
sufficient  propitiation  ;  before  his  blood  can  lose  its  virtue  to 
cleanse  from  all  sin,  or  himself  his  power  to  save  to  the  utter- 
most all  that  come  to  God  by  him ;  before  the  covenant  of 
which  he  is  the  ever-living  Surety  can  be  anything  else 
than  a  covenant  of  freest,  richest  grace,  of  fullest,  most 
perfect  grace,  on  whose  sure  promises  men  may  take  hold  for 
ever. 

Founded  on  this  primary  use,  if  I  may  so  speak,  of  the 
divine  oath,  as  bearing  on  the  constitution  of  the  mediatorial 
economy  in  the  person  and  work  of  the  great  High  Priest, 
there  are  other  instances  of  its  use  in  Scripture,  connected 
with  the  carrying  out  of  that  economy,  to  which  it  may  be 
interesting  and  useful  to  advert. 

Take  these  four,  in  particular :  the  Gospel  call ;  the 
doom  of  unbelief ;  the  hope  of  faith  ;  the  triumph  of  the 
Church.  With  all  the  four,  the  oath  of  God  is  found 
associated. 

1.  The  divine  oath  may  be  viewed  in  its  bearing  on  the 
Gospel  call.  In  that  connection  it  occurs  often  virtually ; 
and  expressly  it  occurs  in  this  at  least  among  other  passages  : 


180  THE  OATH  OF   GOD. 

"  As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord  God,  I  have  no  pleasure  in 
the  death  of  the  wicked ;  but  that  the  wicked  turn  from 
his  way  and  live.  Turn  ye,  turn  ye,  from  your  evil 
ways;  for  why  will  ye  die,  0  house  of  Israel?"  (Ezek. 
xxxiii.  11). 

Thus  viewed,  the  oath  of  God  is  peculiarly  significant. 
It  places  the  assurance  which  you  may  have,  all  of  you, 
any  of  you,  of  God's  perfect  willingness,  his  earnest 
longing,  to  receive  you  back  to  himself,  on  a  footing  such 
as,  if  you  would  but  consider  it,  must  make  you  feel  that 
you  dare  not  doiibt,  and  cannot  withstand,  his  affectionate 
importunity. 

Oh  !  that  the  blessed  Spirit  would  open  your  eyes  here 
to  see  and  understand  the  real  nature,  the  true  character,  of 
the  God  with  whom  you  have  to  do,  the  God  who  so 
pathetically  calls  you.  Oh  !  that  the  Spirit  would  give  you 
such  an  insight  into  what  God  is,  as  might  at  last  make  you 
apprehend  how  absolutely  impossible  it  is  that,  being  what  he 
is,  he  can  be  wishing  your  destruction  ;  how  it  is  of  the  very 
essence  of  his  nature  and  character  that  he  must  be  willing 
your  return  to  himself.  If  you  cannot  believe  what  God 
says,  I  beseech  you  to  consider  what  God  is.  Ah  !  if  you 
would  but  bring  yourselves  to  do  that,  what  a  flood  of  light 
would  be  let  in  upon  your  souls,  to  chase  many  a  dark  thought 
of  God  for  ever  away. 

In  particular,  how  irrelevant,  and  altogether  impertinent, 
would  you  feel  all  your  questionings  about  his  secret  purposes 
to  be  ;  how  entirely  beside  and  away  from  the  one  only  con- 
sideration with  which  you  have  anything  practical  to  do. 
"What !  if  one  comes  to  you  ;  his  eye  all  beaming  with  melt- 
ing tenderness,  and  his  heart  manifestly  throbbing  with  most 
disinterested  love  ;  will  you,  before  giving  in  to  his  persua- 
sive voice,  set  yourselves  to  inquire  into  what  may  be  his 
secret,  ultimate  plans ;  turning  upon  the  very  contingency  of 


THE  OATH  OF  GOD.  181 

the  sort  of  reception  you  may  choose  to  give  to  his  advances  ; 
when  at  a  glance  you  may  see  what  his  nature  really  is,  and 
what,  in  harmony  with  that  nature,  his  feelings  towards  you 
must  necessarily  be  t  "  Away  ! "  you  would  exclaim,  "  away 
with  all  unworthy  doubts  and  misgivings  that  might  be 
started  in  regard  to  his  ulterior  designs  !  Enough  for  me, 
that  he  is  plainly  not  the  kind  of  person  to  have  any  delight 
in  my  destruction.  By  that  open  countenance,  and  loving 
voice,  and  beckoning  hand,  I  cannot  but  feel  that  he  longs 
and  yearns  for  me  to  be  his  !" 

Yes,  brethren,  when  God  has  shown  you,  in  the  entire 
economy  of  grace,  and  specially  in  the  gift  of  his  dear  Son, 
and  in  the  infinite  fulness  and  sufficiency  of  his  great  work  of 
atonement,  what  manner  of  Being  he  is  ;  and  when,  swear- 
ing by  himself,  appealing  to  his  name,  his  nature,  his  open 
heart,  he  would  have  you  seriously  to  ask  if  such  a  Being 
as  he  proves  himself  to  be  can  really  be  one  who  issues  insin- 
cere invitations  and  beguiles  with  hollow  hopes  ;  will  you 
not  repudiate  the  thought  of  making  him  a  liar,  and  at  last 
bring  yourselves  to  believe,  the  Spirit  moving  you,  that  the 
great  living  heart  of  the  Eternal  Father  is  towards  you  ;  and 
that  he  is  in  earnest,  and  means  what  he  says,  when  in  his 
Son  he  cries — "  Turn  ye  ;  turn  ye,  why  will  ye  die  ?  As  I 
live,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked,  but  that 
the  wicked  should  turn  from  his  way  and  live." 

2.  The  oath  of  God  stands  connected  with  the  doom  of  un- 
belief. "  I  sware  in  my  wrath  that  they  should  not  enter  into 
my  rest"  (Ps.  xcv.  1 1).  This  is  one  of  the  most  impressive  and 
awful  of  all  its  uses.  It  is  indeed  a  terrible  thought.  For  it 
means  that  God  executes  his  threatened  judgments,  not  be- 
cause he  delights  in  the  infliction  of  evil ;  nor  even  because 
he  is  determined  to  verify  his  word ;  but  because,  being  such 
as  he  is,  even  he  has  no  alternative  !  Ah  !  if  sinners  had 
nothing  more  to  fear  at  the  hands  of  God  than  his  reluctance 


182  THE   OATH  OF  GOD. 

even  to  seem  to  falsify  his  threatening  word,  they  might  easily 
be  relieved  from  all  their  apprehensions.  The  single  case  of 
!N'ineveh  might  set  their  minds  at  rest.  Certainly,  on  that 
occasion,  God  did  not  show  any  particular  sensitiveness  as  to 
his  own  consistency.  He  did  not  consider  himself  committed 
by  the  mere  utterance  of  his  word.  Nothing  could  be  more 
absolute  and  unequivocal,  according  to  all  human  judgment, 
than  the  prophecy  of  Nineveh's  doom.  But  Nineveh  repented. 
The  reason  for  the  threatened  doom,  so  far  as  it  was  founded 
on  the  nature  of  God,  ceased  to  exist.  And  that  reason  for 
judgment  being  got  rid  of,  the  word  which  had  been  uttered 
was  not  suffered  to  stand  in  the  way  ! 

Oh  !  if  there  be  a  single  soul  here,  against  whom  God 
has  written  some  bitter,  terrible  word  of  wrath  ! — if  there  be 
one  awakened  sinner  to  whom  the  Holy  Ghost  is  even  now 
bringing  home  the  recorded  sentence  of  death,  as  pronounced 
against  him  ; — I  tell  thee,  brother,  that  right  gladly  will  the 
Father  even  now,  this  very  instant,  undo  the  deed,  cancel 
the  judgment,  reverse  the  verdict,  if  thou  wilt  but  now 
turn,  and  believe,  and  live.  Yes  !  Though  a  thousand  cavil- 
lers may  raise  questions  as  to  how  that  may  consist  with  the 
immutability  of  his  word, — what  matters  that  to  him'? — or  to 
thee,  brother  1  Only  let  thy  salvation  become  consistent  with 
his  immutable  nature,  his  essential  perfections,  his  invio- 
lable rule  and  government ;  and  immediately  all  the  past  is 
forgotten.  Believe  this.  Be  sure  that,  in  spite  of  all  God's 
righteous  denunciations,  thy  sin  is  within  the  reach  of  pardon. 
For  dost  thou  not  see  how  glorifying  it  is  to  his  name,  as  well 
as  how  grateful  to  his  heart,  were  it  in  the  face  of  a  whole 
volume  of  threats,  to  save  sinners  in  Christ,  to  save  thee, — 
thee,  brother,  as  well  as  me,  who  am  of  sinners  the  chief? 

All  the  more  awful,  however,  does  the  announcement  of 
final  wrath  thus  become.  To  feel  that,  upon  a  certain  suppo- 
sition, I  must  perish  because  God  has  said  it,  is  a  solemn 


THE  OATH  OF  GOD.    •  183 

enough  thought.  To  feel  that,  in  the  case  supposed,  I  must 
perish,  not  only  because  God  has  said  it,  but  because  even 
God  himself,  being  what  he  is,  cannot  order  it  otherwise,  is 
surely  more  solemn  still. 

Oh  !  what  weight  is  there,  in  this  view,  in  the  warning 
drawn  from  the  fate  of  the  Israelites  who  fell  in  the  wilder- 
ness— "  I  sware  in  my  wrath  that  they  should  not  enter  into 
my  rest."  I  sware  to  them.  Their  sin  was  now  such  as  to 
make  it  not  merely  inconsistent  with  my  word,  but  incon- 
sistent with  my  very  nature,  to  let  them  find  any  place  of 
repentance,  to  let  them  enter  into  my  rest ! 

Consider,  0  friends,  the  penal  severity  of  God  as  thus 
grounded.  Be  sure  that  it  is  no  sovereign  decree  merely,  no 
discretionary  choice,  but  a  stern  necessity  in  the  nature  of 
sin  and  of  God  that  renders  that  severity  inevitable. 

What  was  it  that  shut  up  the  righteous  Father  to  the  inflic- 
tion of  the  sentence  on  the  head  of  his  own  dear  Son,  when 
he  stood  before  him  as  the  representative  of  the  guilty  1  It 
was  no  mere  regard  to  his  own  consistency  ;  no  obstinate 
determination  simply  to  do  as  he  had  said  he  would  do  ; 
that  moved  the  Father  to  plunge  the  awakened  sword  of 
justice  into  the  bosom  of  the  Son.  It  was  a  more  terrible 
necessity  by  far  ;  a  necessity  lying  deep  in  the  divine  nature. 
And  "  if  they  do  these  things  in  the  green  tree,  what  shall  be 
done  in  the  dry  1"  "  How  shall  we  escape  if  we  neglect  so 
great  salvation  1"  (Heb.  ii.  3). 

3.  The  divine  oath  is  all-important  in  its  bearing  on  the 
security  of  the  believer's  hope.  That  indeed  is  its  immediate 
application  here. 

The  question  of  your  progress  and  perseverance  to  the  end 
has  been  raised  ;  by  the  reproof  and  exhortation  and  warn- 
ing contained  in  the  previous  passage.  Your  only  safety  against 
backsliding  and  apostasy  lies,  as  you  are  told,  in  getting  out 
of  the  mere  elements  of  the  gospel  viewed  as  a  method  of 


184  THE  OATH  OF  GOD. 

personal  relief,  and  passing  on  to  the  perfection  of  insight 
and  sympathy,  as  regards  the  higher  aspects  and  hearings  of 
it,  in  relation  to  the  glorious  name  of  God. 

But,  alas  !  one  may  say,  what  confidence  can  I  ever  have 
in  that  line  1  The  perfection  to  which  I  am  to  go  on,  alas  ! 
how  distant.  The  sin  into  which  I  may  relapse,  alas !  how 
near.  What  is  to  give  me  confidence  ?  Is  it  my  own  dili- 
gence in  following,  not  slothfully,  the  saints  that  have  gone 
before  1  Or  is  it  my  own  carefulness  to  depart  from  the 
iniquity  that  dogs  my  steps  behind  ?  No,  brother.  Both  of 
these  conditions  are  indispensable,  but  neither  of  them  is  to 
be  relied  on  as  giving  thee  assurance.  But  thou  art  in  the 
hands  of  a  God  whose  name,  and  nature,  and  character  thou 
knowest.  And,  to  put  an  end  to  all  strife  and  debate  in  thy 
heart,  he  swears  by  himself  to  thee.  He  points  to  his  essen- 
tial perfection.  He  bids  thee  consider,  not  only  what  he  says, 
but  what  he  is  ;  what  thou  in  Christ  hast  seen  and  found 
him  to  be.  And  he  tells  thee  that,  as  surely  as  he  is  what  he 
is,  as  surely  as  he  liveth,  so  surely  he  pledges  himself  to 
thee,  and  must  keep  faith  with  thee. 

Trail  indeed  is  thy  vessel,  as  it  is  tossed  on  life's  troubled 
sea.  But  it  bears  the  name  of  the  unchangeable  Jehovah. 
And  as  surely  as  Jehovah  liveth,  so  surely  is  that  vessel  safe. 
Tar  back,  in  the  dateless  era  of  the  past  eternity, — deep 
down  in  the  counsels  of  the  eternal  mind,  the  cable-chain  is 
fixed, — which,  winding  its  unseen  way  through  the  ages, 
fastens  itself  around  thy  tiny  bark,  steadying  it  amid 
ocean's  storms.  And,  shooting  out  ahead,  that  same  un- 
broken cable-chain  reaches  on  to  the  haven  of  rest,  and  is 
riveted  securely  there.  Thy  little  bark  is  out  at  sea  ;  but 
the  anchor  to  which  the  cable-chain  is  fastened  is  within  the 
veil.  And  the  cable-chain  no  force  of  man  or  devil  can 
sever.  Hopefully  then  stand  to  thy  post  in  that  bark,  thou 
Christian  mariner  !     Ply  the  oars  ;  set  all  the  sails  ;  in  spite 


THE  OATH  OF  GOD,  185 

of  cross  currents  and  baffling  winds.  Steadily,  hj  the  guid- 
ance of  that  ever  shprtening  cable-chain,  thou  art  moving  on 
to  the  happy  shore.  Nearer  and  nearer  art  thou  drawing  to 
it.  Shorter  and  ever  shorter  is  that  marvellous  line  becoming 
that  joins  the  vessel  to  the  anchor.  Hark  !  at  last,  the  roll- 
ing of  the  eddying  surge.  One  lurch  at  the  bar,  and  the 
breakers  are  past.  Thy  bark  is  where  its  anchor  of  hope  has 
long  been.  Thou  art  thyself  within  the  veil,  "  whither  the 
forerunner  is  for  us  entered,  even  Jesus,  made  an  high  priest 
for  ever  after  the  order  of  Melchisedec  "  (ver.  20). 

4.  One  other  application  of  the  divine  oath  I  can 
but  touch  upon  ;  it  is  the  connection  in  which  it  stands 
with  the  ultimate  triumph  of  the  Lord's  church  and  cause 
in  the  world.  "  Look  unto  me,  and  be  ye  saved,  all  ye 
ends  of  the  earth  ;  for  I  am  God,  and  there  is  none  else. 
I  have  sworn  by  myself  ;  the  word  has  gone  out  of  my  mouth 
in  righteousness,  that  unto  me  every  knee  shall  bow,  every 
tongue  shall  swear"  (Isa.  xlv.  22,  23).  The  purpose  of 
God  to  fill  the  earth  with  the  knowledge  of  himself  and  of 
his  glory  is  a  purpose  founded,  not  upon  his  mere  sovereign 
word,  but  upon  his  essential  nature.  It  is  no  arbitrary 
decree,  but  an  absolute  necessity  of  his  very  being,  which 
requires  that  the  light  which  has  come  into  the  world 
shall  ultimately  dispel  the  world's  darkness,  and  that  the 
kingdom  which  the  God  of  heaven  has  set  up  in  the  earth 
shall  in  the  end  make  all  other  kingdoms  its  own.  The 
time  may  seem  long  ;  the  struggle  arduous  and  doubtful. 
But  as  surely  as  God  continues  to  be  the  God  he  is  ;  as 
surely  as  the  Lord  liveth  ;  so  surely  shall  his  gospel  make 
way  among  the  nations,  till  all  the  earth  is  filled  with  his  glory. 

Many  practical  lessons  might  be  drawn  from  this  theme. 
I  content  myself  with  one  closing  counsel.  Cease  from  all 
vain  speculations  as  to  the  secret  things,  the  unknown  pur- 


186  THE  OATH  OF  GOD. 

poses,  of  God.  Eest  in  what  he  has  revealed  to  you  of  him- 
self ;  of  what  he  is.  Acquaint  yourselves  with  God,  and 
be  at  peace,  according  to  that  saying,  "  They  that  know  thy 
name  will  put  their  trust  in  thee"  (Ps,  ix.  10.) 

In  the  case  of  an  earthly  friend,  your  knowledge  of  his 
nature,  your  insight  into  his  character,  might  he  expected  to 
prevail  over  many  dark  surmises  and  doubtful  suspicions, 
which  apparent  anomalies  in  his  conduct,  or  rumours  and 
speculations  about  his  intentions,  might  otherwise  occasion. 
If  he  had  admitted  you  to  an  intimate  acquaintance  with 
him ;  if  he  had  opened  to  you  his  very  heart,  his  heart  of 
hearts,  and  unveiled  to  you  the  essence  of  his  moral  being  ; 
he  might  fairly  ask  you  to  take  many  things  on  trust,  and 
suffer  many  things  to  remain  for  a  time  unexplained,  without 
your  confidence  in  him  being  at  all  shaken.  Especially  if,  as 
to  all  that  could  concern  your  personal  relation  to  him,  and 
your  personal  friendship  with  him,  he  once  for  all  made  a 
solemn  and  affectionate  appeal  to  that  nature,  that  heart 
of  his,  which  he  had  so  fully  laid  bare  to  you  ;  and  bid 
you  ask  yourself,  in  any  moment  of  hesitancy,  if  the  truth  of 
such  a  nature,  if  the  love  of  such  a  heart,  could  possibly 
fail  you  1  Ah  !  would  you  not  ever  after  turn  a  deaf  ear  to 
every  hint  that  would  cast  the  shadow  of  a  doubt  on  your 
friend's  honoured  name  1  Would  you  not  stifle  every  rising 
inclination  to  pry  into  his  secrets  1  Would  you  not  resolutely 
put  away  from  you  every  temptation  to  question  his  pro- 
ceedings 1  No  !  you  would  say.  Perplexing  as  some  of 
these  may  seem,  and  capable  even  of  an  unfavourable  and 
unfriendly  construction,  I  know  my  friend  too  well  to  let 
a  single  thought  dishonouring  to  him  find  a  moment's  lodg- 
ment in  my  bosom.  What  he  does  I  may  not  know  now  ; 
but  I  shall  know  hereafter.  Meanwhile,  knowing  himself, 
what  he  is,  as  I  do,  I  will  trust  and  not  be  afraid. 

Even   so  know  ye  the  Lord.       Come,  obtain    through 


THE  OATH  OF  GOD.  187 

grace  an  intelligent  and  sympathising  insight  into  his  very- 
nature  ;  what  he  is  in  himself ;  God  is  light  ;  God  is  love. 
And  then,  far  back  behind  any  word,  in  the  very  being  and 
character  of  your  God,  you  have  a  ground  of  reliance  not  to 
be  touched.  See  the  great  heart  of  the  eternal  Father  opened 
to  you  in  his  eternal  Son  !  And  be  ashamed  of  your  hard 
thoughts,  your  vain  speculations,  your  endless  doubts.  Learn, 
the  Holy  Spirit  teaching  you,  to  know  and  to  do  justice  to 
the  God  and  Father  of  your  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  his  Father 
and  your  Father  ;  his  God  and  your  God  ;  and  to  say,  with 
one  who  had  leas  knowledge  of  him  by  far  than  you  may 
have,  "  Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  him  "  (Job 
xiii.  15). 


188  THE  INDWELLING  WORD  OF  CHRIST. 


XI. 

THE  INDWELLING  WOED  OF  CHEIST. 

"Let  the  word  of  Christ  dwell  iu  you  richly." — Colossians  hi.  16. 

This  exhortation  is  connected,  on  the  one  hand,  with  the 
preceding  experience  out  of  which  it  springs  (vers.  14,  15) ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  with  the  outward  expression  in 
which  it  issues  and  finds  vent  (ver.  IC.)  But  it  is  complete 
in  itself,  and  may  be  so  considered. 

The  word  of  Christ  here  spoken  of  can  scarcely  mean  his 
personal  teaching  merely.  It  must  be  held,  as  I  apprehend 
it,  to  embrace  the  whole  revelation  of  him,  which  we  have 
from  himself  in  Scripture  ;  the  whole  Bible,  in  short.  Only 
it  is  the  Bible  viewed  in  a  peculiar  light  ;  not  as  a  book 
written  about  Christ ;  nor  even  as  a  book  virtually  written 
by  Christ,  long  ago,  but  as  his  present  word  ;  the  medium 
of  his  present  communication  of  his  present  mind  and  will ; 
affording  the  means  and  materials  of  present  speech  ;  the 
organ  through  which  he  personally  confers  with  us,  here 
and  now. 

The  phrase  "  dwell  in  you  "  must  therefore  be  taken  in 
a  strictly  personal  sense.  It  is  not  to  be  diffused  and 
evaporated,  as  if  it  referred  to  the  Church  collective ;  the 
general  body  of  professing  Christians,  It  is  here,  as  else- 
where in  Paul's  writings,  altogether  personal,  individual. 
Take  some  instances  :  "  If  the  Spirit  of  him  that  raised  up 


THE  INDWELLING  WOED   OF  CUEIST.  189 

Jesus  from  the  dead  dwell  in  you"  (Eom.  viii.  11).  "God  hath, 
said,  I  wHl  dweU  in  them  "  (2  Cor.  vi.  1 6).  "  That  Christ  may 
dwell  in  your  hearts  hy  faith"  (Ephes.  iii.  17).  "The  unfeigned 
faith  that  is  in  thee  ;  which  dwelt  first  in  thy  grandmother 
Lois,  and  thy  mother  Eunice  ;  and  I  am  persuaded  in  thee 
also  "  (2  Tim.  i.  5).  "  That  good  thing  which  is  committed 
unto  thee  keep,  by  the  Holy  Ghost  which  dwelleth  in  us  " 
(2  Tim.  i.  14).  Of  these  five  instances,  only  one,  the  second, 
can  admit  of  the  diffusive  or  collective  interpretation.  And 
even  that  is  better  rendered,  as  individually  and  personally 
applicable,  "  I  will  dwell  in  them,"  I  proceed  therefore, 
on  that  understanding  of  the  exhortation,  to  speak  first  of 
the  word  of  Christ  dwelling  in  you ;  and,  secondly,  of  the  word 
of  Christ  dwelling  in  you  richly. 

I.  Let  the  word  of  Christ  dwell  in  you.     This  mere  in-  • 
dwelling  of  the  word  of  Christ  in  you  at  aU  is  a  great  thought.  2^ 
It  is  a  great  experimental  attainment.     Consider  some  of 
the  conditions  of  its  practical  and  personal  realisation. 

1.  It  implies  a  sense  of  the  preciousness  of  Christ  him- 
self ;  his  preciousness  to  them  that  believe  ;  his  preciousness 
realised  by  faith.  No  one's  word  will  dwell  in  you,  unless 
he  is  precious  to  you  whose  word  it  is.  The  word  of  one  who 
is  to  you  himself  an  object  of  dislike  will  be  angrily  or 
contemptuously  rejected,  after  it  has  stung  you  to  resentment. 
The  word  of  one  who  is  to  you  an  object  of  indifiPerence  will 
pass  swiftly  by  you,  or  through  you,  without  effecting  any 
abiding  lodgment  within  you. 

How  much  of  the  word,  as  the  word  of  Christ,  may  you 
thus  miss,  if  Christ  himself  personally  is  not  precious  to  you  ! 
In  many  parts  of  the  Bible  you  think  that  Christ  is  only 
very  dimly  and  distantly  to  be  found,  if  he  is  to  be  found  at 
all.  "Whole  chapters  and  books  are  read,  without  their  sug- 
gesting to  you   anything  that  can  be   called  the  word  of 


190  THE  INDWELLING  WORD  OF  CHRIST. 

Christ ;  or  what  may  come  home  to  you  as  Christ  speaking, 
and  speaking  to  yon.  Even  passages  that  are  fullest  of 
Christ,  of  his  own  sayings  and  actions,  do  not  hring  Christ 
himself  before  you,  as  speaking  personally  to  you. 

But  it  is  only  when  it  does  that,  and  in  so  far  as  it  does 
that,  that  the  Bible,  or  any  portion  of  it,  is  practically  and 
infiuentially  the  word  of  Christ  to  you.  The  letter  of  an 
absent  friend  is  his  word  to  me,  when  by  means  of  it  I 
conjure  him  up,  and  call  him  before  me,  as  himself,  in  his 
own  loved  person,  speaking  to  me.  Then  his  word  takes 
hold  on  me,  and  dwells  in  me.  Christ  is  not  an  absent  friend. 
He  is  present  with  me  when  I  search  the  Scriptures  which 
testify  of  him.  He  is  here  living  and  present  with  me,  as  I 
read  or  listen.  If  he  is  precious  to  me,  as  believing  in  him, 
I  must  feel  him,  and  realise  him  to  be  here  ;  living  and 
present  here  now  with  me ;  to  teach  me,  at  every  step  ; 
upon  every  holy  text,  and  every  sacred  saying ;  what  I  am 
to  regard  as  his  present  word  to  me,  here  and  now. 

Thus,  through  my  love  to  him  and  his  preciousness  to  me, 
even  what  of  Scripture  may  seem  to  have  little  or  nothing 
of  Christ  may  become  his  word  to  me.  Lord  Jesus  !  what 
hast  thou  to  say  to  me,  here  and  now  ;  by  thy  Spirit  taking 
of  what  is  thine,  and  showing  it  to  me  ;  about  such  a  seem- 
ingly Christless  passage  as  this  or  that  1 — a  passage,  at  first 
sight,  so  empty  of  thee?  What  is  thy  word  to  me,  here 
and  now,  in  it  and  about  it  1  What  is  its  bearing  on  thee 
and  on  me,  here  and  now  1  Speak,  Lord,  for  thy  servant 
heareth. 

2.  The  preciousness  of  Christ's  word,  as  well  as  of  Christ 
himself,  is  essential  to  its  dwelling  in  you.  This  indeed  fol- 
lows as  a  natural  and  necessary  consequence.  If  Christ  is 
precious,  his  word  must  be  precious.  Still,  this  inference 
may  suggest  a  new  line  of  thought.  The  word  of  a  precious 
friend  is  precious  to  you  in  itself  ;  almost  before  you  know 


THE  INDWELLING  WORD  OF  CHRIST.  191 

what  it  is,  and  what  it  contains.  You  take  it  on  trust  before- 
hand, and  welcome  it,  even  before  examination,  as  the  word 
of  your  beloved.  The  very  outside  of  a  letter  from  him  is  to 
you  a  welcome  sight. 

But  your  friend's  word  becomes  unspeakably  more  precious 
when  you  study  it  particularly  ;  and  especially  when  you 
test  experimentally  its  special  suitableness  to  your  case  ;  when 
you  find  it  to  be  of  real  value  to  you  in  your  present  circum- 
stances, here  and  now.  It  is  so,  may  it  not  be  so,  with  the 
Bible  as  the  word  of  Christ  to  you  I  Is  there  any  passage  of 
Scripture  that  is  at  this  moment,  or  has  been,  say  last  night 
or  this  morning,  much  in  your  thoughts  ?  Is  it  a  passage 
which  Christ  has  just  been  using,  or  has  formerly  used,  as 
the  means  of  his  speaking  to  you  by  his  Spirit  a  word  in 
season  when  you  were  weary  ?  The  preciousness  of  it,  as  the 
word  of  Christ  here  and  now  to  you,  felt  to  be  so,  will 
make  it  dwell  in  you. 

I  suppose  there  is  scarcely  one  of  you  who  cannot  name 
some  text  or  portion  of  Scripture,  in  itself  apparently  rather 
barren  of  spiritual  meaning  and  unction,  having  in  it,  one 
would  say,  little  or  nothing  of  Christ,  or  of  what  is  Christ's, 
which  somehow  has  got  to  be  one  of  your  best  remembrancers 
of  Christ ;  a  frequent  and  favourite  visitor  of  your  soul ;  and 
a  visitor  always  suggestive  of  Christ ;  of  Christ  speaking  to 
you,  by  means  of  it,  some  word  in  season  in  your  weariness. 
You  say  it  is  association.  The  law  of  association  explains 
the  experience.  And  so  far  it  does.  The  scriptural  text  or 
passage  is  connected  in  some  marked  way  with  some  marked 
crisis  in  your  spiritual  history.  In  some  critical  exigency, 
among  other  Bible  sayings  seemiugly  much  more  to  the  pur- 
pose, this  one  has  somehow  come  up  3  as  a  whisper  of  consola- 
tion from  the  lips  of  Jesus  in  your  deep  distress  ;  or  a  breath 
of  his  pity  stealing  into  your  sin-laden  and  sorrow-laden 
soul ;  or  a  faint  murmur  presaging  the  loud  trump  of  wrath, 


192  THE  INDWELLING  WORD  OF  CHRIST. 

if  you  are  on  the  point  of  giving  way  to  temptation.  So  it 
has  struck  you.  And  so  it  leaves  its  sting  and  its  solace 
in  you. 

Well,  what  is  that  experience  ?  Is  it  not  the  word 
realised  by  you,  in  this  one  particular  instance,  realised  by 
you  experimentally,  as  precious,  practically  precious,  making 
itself  felt  as  the  word  of  Christ  dealing  with  you  personally 
in  it,  the  precious  word  of  a  precious  Christ  1 

Now  what  should  hinder  the  whole  Bible,  in  all  its 
minute  details,  as  well  as  in  its  general  scope  and  substance, 
from  thus  becoming  to  you,  not  as  a  whole,  but  in  its 
minutest  parts,  the  word  of  Christ,  and  as  such  dwelling  in 
you  1  For,  in  this  practical  point  of  view,  it  matters  little  or 
nothing  what  theory  of  the  Christology  of  Scripture  you  may 
adopt.  How,  and  how  far,  particular  books  or  verses  of 
Scripture  bear  on  Christ's  person  and  work  ;  Avhether  his- 
torically or  symbolically,  in  prophecy  or  in  psalmody,  is 
not  the  question  here.  There  need  be  no  straining  of 
Scripture  to  make  it  always  and  everywhere  redolent  of 
Christ.  ISTo  ;  you  may  use  it  freely,  in  all  its  books  and 
chapters  and  verses,  according  to  the  nature  of  their  several 
contents,  just  as  you  would  use  the  miscellaneous  writings  of 
any  author  ;  only  with  a  reverential  remembrance  of  who 
the  author  in  this  case  is. 

Por  I  point  to  a  quite  different,  and  altogether  peculiar  and 
unique  way,  of  seeking  and  finding  Christ  and  his  word  all 
through  the  Bible.  It  is  the  way,  not  of  getting  it  to  speak 
to  you  about  Christ,  but  rather  of  getting  Christ  to  speak  to 
you  about  it ;  and  so  to  make  it  all  his.  In  plain  terms,  let 
it  all,  every  bit  and  fragment  of  it,  be  welded  into  your 
Christian  experience,  and  become  part  and  parcel  of  it.  Let 
there  be  nothing  in  it  that  is  not  somehow,  in  your  expe- 
rience, connected  with  Christ ;  with  Christ  living  in  you, 
with  Christ  in  you  the  hope  of  glory. 


THE  INDWELLING  WOED  OF  CHRIST.  193 

Do  you  ask  how  tliis  may  be  1  I  answer,  by  the  Spirit 
being  given  in  answer  to  the  prayer  of  faith.  He  teaches  you 
all  things  ;  whatever  Christ  has  said.  He  teaches  you  them 
all  as  said  by  Christ.  Some  of  them  may  be  things  which 
are  in  themselves  far  enough  away  from  Christ ;  with  Httle 
of  Christ  in  them.  But  dwell,  in  the  Spirit,  even  upon  what 
in  Scrij)ture  may  seem  to  be  most  Christless.  Do  not  force 
it  to  testify  of  Christ  formally,  whether  explicitly  or  impli- 
citly, so  as  to  offend  critics  and  perplex  ordinary  readers. 
Take  it  all  in  its  plain  meaning.  But  expect  that  in  it,  and 
by  means  of  it,  Christ  may  have  something  to  say  to  you ;  \ 
some  lesson  to  teach ;  some  comfort  to  impart ;  some  reproof  / 
to  administer ;  some  quickening  impulse  or  influence  to  apply. 
Dwell  on  it,  in  that  view.  Pray  over  it.  Link  on  the  most 
unpromising  text  with  some  personal  dealing  of  the  Spirit 
with  your  soul.  Merge  it  in  your  present  spiritual  expe- 
rience. And  I  venture  to  assure  you  that,  however  little  of 
Christ  there  was  for  you  in  the  dead  letter  of  that  text  before, 
it  will  henceforth,  whenever  it  recurs  to  you,  be  instinct  with 
life  as  the  word  of  Christ ;  his  living  word  to  you  at  the  time ; 
and  as  such,  it  will  be  very  precious. 

3,  The  felt  preciousness  of  real  present  and  living  inter- 
course between  Christ  and  you  will  cause  the  word,  as  his 
word,  to  abide  in  you.  For  it  is  his  word  that  sustains  and 
keeps  up  the  intercourse.  It  is  the  word,  as  his  word,  that 
is  the  manual,  as  it  were,  or  handbook  of  his  conversation 
with  you  ;  and  consequently  also  the  manual  or  handbook  of 
your  conversation  with  him.  It  is  in  that  character  and 
capacity  mainly  that  it  is  to  dwell  in  you.  It  is  for  conver- 
sational purposes,  and,  as  it  were,  colloquial  uses.  I  would 
have  this  statement  plainly  and  familiarly  understood.  It 
embodies  a  principle  of  great  practical  importance.  You  are 
to  abide  or  dwell  in  Christ,  and  Christ  in  you.  This  mutual 
or  reciprocal  abiding  of  you  in  Christ,  and  Christ  in  you,  is 

o 


194  THE  INDWELLING  WOED  OF  CHRIST. 

through  that  which  you  have  heard  from  the  beginning 
abiding  in  you  ;  or  otherwise,  through  his  word  dwelling  in 
you.  For,  whatever  there  may  be  of  the  supernatural — and 
it  is  all  supernatural — in  this  communion  between  Christ  and 
you,  his  dwelling  in  you  and  your  dwelling  in  him ;  it 
is  yet  so  far  natural,  that  it  may  be,  and  must  be,  realised  in 
the  natural  and  ordinary  way  of  communication  and  fellow- 
ship between  intelligent  beings  knowing  and  recognising  one 
another.  It  must  partake  of  the  character  of  conversation, 
or  conversational  intercourse,  of  a  verbal  sort.  There  cannot 
really  be  any  conscious  communion,  any  interchange  of  mind 
with  mind,  or  heart  with  heart ;  none  at  least  that  can  be  sus- 
tained for  any  length  of  time,  or  that  can  impress  itself  per- 
manently on  the  consciousness  and  the  memory ;  no  indwell- 
ing of  my  heart  and  mind  in  you,  or  of  your  heart  and  mind 
in  me,  without  language  ;  spoken  or  written  language ;  or 
language,  if  you  will,  of  the  silent  embrace,  the  look,  the  tear ; 
more  expressive  of  intelligence,  at  certain  seasons,  than  any 
words.  I  put  no  faith  in  any  other  sort  of  union  and  com- 
munion between  you  and  me  than  such  as  language  may  and 
must  interpret  and  define.  I  put  as  little  faith  in  any  other 
sort  of  union  and  communion  between  you  and  Christ.  It  is 
all  apt  to  be  quite  mystical,  fantastic,  fanatical ;  visionary  and 
ideal ;  except  in  so  far  as  it  is  articulate,  conversational, 
and  verbal. 

There  is  room  for  self-deception  here.  We  may  dream  of 
our  being  in  Christ,  and  Christ  being  in  us,  after  some  vague, 
undefined,  sleepy  fashion  ;  whence  comes  a  sort  of  quiet  and 
quiescent  half-unconscious  resting  of  him  on  iis,  and  of  us  in 
him.  Is  it  more  than  a  dream,  or  dreamy  delusion,  if  there 
is  not  actual  converse  and  talk  between  us — verbal  converse, 
colloquial  talk  ?  Of  course,  it  may  not  be  converse  or  talk  so 
audibly  carried  on  as  to  be  overheard  by  men  or  angels.  It 
may  not  be  put  in  express  and  formal  terms  when  Christ  and 


THE  INDWELLING  WOED  OF  CHRIST.  195 

you  are  alone  together  ;  he  alone  with  you  alone  ;  in  the 
closet,  with  the  door  shut.  He  and  you  do  not  make  speeches 
or  write  letters  to  one  another.  Much  may  be  understood 
silently  between  him  and  you  :  much  that  is  unutterable. 
But  still,  consider  the  case  of  Paul,  in  his  highest  heavenly 
rapture.  Paul  heard  words  ;  words  unspeakable  no  doubt ; 
unlawful  or  impossible  for  a  man  to  utter.  But  still  he  heard 
words.  The  rapturous  insights  and  emotions  found  verbal 
expression.  Words  were  used.  Much  more  in  your  case  ; 
even  when  your  abiding  in  Christ  and  his  abiding  in  you  par- 
takes of  the  closest,  warmest,  most  loving  kind  of  embrace, 
silent  and  deep,  the  strange  flowing  into  one  of  his  love  and 
your  faith  ;  words  may  come  in.  Nay,  in  such  experience 
especially  words  should  come  in  ;  to  chasten  the  experience, 
and  give  it  a  definite  voice  and  a  definite  aim.  And  the 
words  should  be  articulate  and  clear ;  whether  uttered  or  not. 
They  should  still  be  words  ;  thoughts  and  feelings  becoming 
verbal ;  formed  into  sentences  more  or  less  broken  ;  but  yet 
such  as  may  suffice  for  carrying  on  real  personal  conver- 
sation. 

Thus,  words  must  be  used  to  bring  the  fellowship  into  in- 
telligible shape,  and  turn  it  to  piactical  account ;  as  real  and 
personal.  What  have  you  to  say  to  one  another,  what  are  you 
saying  to  one  another,  in  this  hour  of  mutual  confidence  and 
unreserved  intercourse  1  That  is  the  question.  AVhat  are 
you  saying  to  him  "?  What  is  he  saying  to  you  ]  So  he  him- 
self puts  the  manner  of  this  intercourse — "  If  ye  abide  in  me, 
and  my  words  abide  in  you,  ye  shall  ask  what  ye  will,  and  it 
shall  be  done  unto  you"  (John  xv.  7).  There  is  speech  here, 
articulate  speech,  on  both  sides;  Christ's  words  abiding  in 
you  ;  and  your  asking  what  you  Avill.  "  If  a  man  love  me, 
he  will  keep  my  words  ;  and  my  Father  will  love  him,  and 
"we  will; come  unto  him,  and  make  our  abode  with  him"  (John 
xiv.  23).     How  is  this  to  be  realised?     How,  but  by  the 


196  THE  INDWELLING  WOED  OF  CHRIST. 

Holy  Ghost  "  teaching  you  and  bringing  to  your  remembrance 
all  things  whatsoever  Christ  hath  said  unto  you"  1  Still  it  is 
speech,  intelligible  and  articulate  speech,  that  is  the  means  or 
medium  of  communion.  There  is,  I  repeat,  no  real,  trust- 
worthy indwelling  of  you  in  Christ,  or  of  Christ  in  you,  on 
any  other  footing.  None.  For  the  pointed,  personal,  prac- 
tical question  is  not  to  be  resented  or  evaded.  What  is  your 
conversation  ?  What  is  your  talk  ]  What  are  you  speaking 
about  1     What  are  you  saying  to  one  another  1 

That  you  may  meet  this  question,  without  resenting  it  or 
evading  it,  let  the  word  of  Christ  dwell  in  you.  For  it  is  his 
word  that  is  the  staple  of  the  verbal  and  conversational  inter- 
course in  question.  It  is  the  word,  as  Christ's.  For  in  this 
talk,  to  use  the  plainest  terms,  he  must  take  the  lead.  He 
suggests  the  topics.  He  supplies  the  vocabulary.  His  word 
is  the  safe  guide  and  full  storehouse  of  the  conversation ;  not 
his  word  merely,  as  the  general  body  of  Scripture  testifying 
about  him  and  inspired  by  his  Spirit ;  but  his  word  in  detail, 
brought  home  to  you  personally,  as  his  word  to  you.  It  may 
be  co-extensive  with  all  Scripture.  It  should  be  so,  and  will 
be  so,  the  more  we  study  all  Scripture  as  his.  But,  at  any 
rate,  that  word  of  Christ,  the  word  thus  experimentally  re- 
alised as  his,  in  whole  or  in  part,  is  the  medium  of  communi- 
cation between  him  and  you.  He  uses  it  in  speaking  to  you. 
And  you  use  it  in  speaking  to  him. 

Thus  used,  it  will  dwell  in  you.  Otherwise,  it  will  go 
away.  The  letter  may  remain.  Strings  of  texts,  verses  in 
abundance,  whole  chapters  and  books,  may  continue  with  you 
fitfully  or  dreamily.  The  instinct  of  memory  may  mechani- 
cally, as  it  were,  recall  them ;  and  the  tongue  may  fluently  and 
ghbly  quote  them.  But  the  virtue  is  gone  out  of  them.  The 
savour,  the  unction,  of  there  being  Christ's  word  in  them  to 
you,  is  lost.  They  are  not  to  you  the  word  of  Christ  dwelling 
in  you.     If  you  would  have  the  word  to  dwell  or  abide  in 


THE  INDWELLING  WOKD  OF  CHRIST.  197 

you,  as  the  precious  -word  of  a  precious  Saviour,  you  must  let 
it  be  in  you  useful  and  available  ;  always  turned  to  account ; 
for  the  keeping  up  of  real,  personal,  precious  intercourse  be- 
tween him  and  you.  Let  it  all,  every  portion  of  it,  as  it 
comes  up  in  your  thoughts,  take  shape  virtually  and  mentally 
as  a  dialogue.  Let  it  be  a  real  dialogue.  Let  me,  before 
suffering  any  passage  of  Scripture  that  has  arrested,  impressed, 
moved  me,  to  pass  away  from  me,  make  it  the  occasion  and 
the  means  of  my  saying  so  and  so  to  him,  and  his  saying  so 
and  so  to  me. 

No  Scripture  thus  used  will  pass  away;  The  word  of 
Christ,  as  the  precious  word  of  a  precious  Saviour,  realised 
as  the  means  of  a  most  precious,  because  real  and  personal, 
converse,  between  him  and  you,  will  assuredly  dwell  in  you 
richly. 

II.  "  Eichly  ! "  This  qualifying  word  may  apply  in  more 
senses  than  one.  It  must  do  so;  for  it  touches  a  rich  subject. 

1.  It  may  refer  to  quantity.  Let  the  word  of  Christ  dwell 
in  you  abundantly,  copiously.  Let  there  be  plenty  of  it, 
rich  plenty.  Let  the  mind  be  richly  stored,  let  the  soul  be 
richly  furnished,  with  the  word  of  Christ ;  the  word  as  he 
sets  his  seal  to  it  as  his,  and  by  his  Spirit  makes  it  in  your 
experience  his  very  word  to  you.  Ah  !  how  much  is  there  of 
the  Bible  that  does  not  dwell  in  you  because  you  do  not 
recognise  and  realise  it  as  the  word  of  Christ ;  his  present 
word  to  you.  Whole  chapters  there  may  be  that  have  not, 
in  your  consciousness,  become  linked  to  any  gracious  dealing 
of  Christ  Avith  you.  These  will  not  dwell  in  you.  But  let 
them  become  part  and  parcel  of  your  inward  personal  experi- 
ence of  Christ  communing  with  you.  Let  all  Scripture  be 
thus  applied.  There  will  be  a  rich  abundance  of  the  word 
of  Christ  dwelling  in  you. 

2.  The  term  "  richly  "  may  have  respect   to  quality  as 


\, 


198  THE  INDWELLING  WOED  OF   CHRIST. 

well  as  quantity ;  not  merely  to  the  amount  of  matter,  as  it 
were,  lodged  in  you ;  but  to  the  kind  of  matter ;  its  inherent 
energy  and  influence.  The  term  richly  may  have,  in  some 
sense,  an  active  signification.  A  rich  manure  is  a  manure 
that  enriches  the  soil.  And  it  dwells  in  the  soil  richly  in 
proportion  as  it  enriches  the  soil ;  turning  its  dry  and  hard 
sterihty  into  rich  and  unctuous  and  fruitful  mould.  So  let 
the  word  of  Christ  dwell  in  you  richly.  Let  it  dwell  in  you 
so  as  to  enrich  your  souls. 

Here  too,  if  it  is  to  dwell  in  you  richly  in  this  sense,  it 
must  dwell  in  you  as  the  word  of  Christ.  In  this  view,  that 
is  especially  needful.  For  such  is  the  poverty  of  the  soil ; 
and  not  its  poverty  only,  but  its  intractable  perversity ;  that 
otherwise  even  the  word  will,  instead  of  enriching  the 
soul  in  which  it  is  made  to  dwell,  become  itself  partaker 
of  its  blight  and  barren  deadness  ;  and  end  in  being  as  salt 
which  has  lost  its  savour,  incapable  of  seasoning  or  quick- 
ening anything. 

Is  not  this  Paul's  testimony  1  The  letter  killeth,  but  the 
Spirit  giveth  life ;  making  it  truly  the  living  word  of  a 
living  Christ.  Let  it  so  dwell  in  you  ;  enriching  your  whole 
inner  man ;  pouring  ever  anew  and  afresh  into  you, — shed- 
ding abroad  ever  anew  and  afresh  in  you, — rich  and  full 
discoveries  and  experiences  of  Christ's  own  love  and  the 
Father's.  Is  it  not  as  the  pouring  out  of  a  rich  ointment, 
pervading  with  its  rich  unction,  filling  with  its  rich  odour, 
the  whole  house  or  chamber  of  your  inmost  soul  1 

Ah  !  how  penetrating  as  well  as  powerful  should  be  the 
virtue  of  this  indwelling  in  you  of  the  word  of  Christ  ! 
How  should  it  reach  to  every  nook  and  corner  of  your 
outward  and  inward  life  ;  smoothing  all  asperities,  sweeten- 
ing whatever  is  sour,  softening  whatever  is  hard,  breaking 
the  very  stones,  melting  the  iron  ore,  impregnating  with 
the   very   meelaiess   and  gentleness   of   Christ   the   dreary 


THE  INDWELLING  WORD  OF  CHRIST.  199 

wildness  of  those  once  unsubdued  and  unruly  hearts  of 
yours,  and  turning  them  into  gardens  of  rich  divine 
husbandry,  out  of  whose  broken  depths  the  fruit  of  the 
Spirit  may  richly  grow. 

3.  This  rich  indwelling  of  the  word  of  Christ  in  you 
may  be  held  to  correspond  to  the  riches  of  him  whose  word 
it  is  ;  to  be  in  some  measure  proportioned  to  his  own  riches. 
And  what  are  these  ?  Eiches  of  all  sorts  ;  of  goodness  ;  of 
glory  ;  of  wisdom  ;  of  knowledge  ;  of  grace  ;  exceeding 
riches  of  grace  ;  the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ.  It  is  the 
word  of  this  rich  one  that  is  to  dwell  in  you  richly  ;  to 
dwell  in  you  as  making  you  partakers  with  him  in  his  riches, 
in  all  his  riches,  unsearchable  as  they  are. 

4.  It  is  to  dwell  in  you,  not  only  as  rich  receivers,  but 
as  rich  dispensers  also,  of  the  riches  of  him  whose  word  it  is. 
If  it  dwells  in  you  richly,  it  must  go  forth  from  you  richly ; 
copiously ;  abundantly ;  freshly ;  in  full  and  living  flow. 
Freely  you  receive  ;  and  freely  you  give  ;  of  the  word  of 
Christ  dwelling  in  you  richly.  Eichly  endowed  by  the  word 
of  Christ  dwelling  in  you  richly,  you  are  to  be  richly  pro- 
ductive ;  richly  fruit-bearing  ;  rich  in  faith  ;  rich  in  good 
works  ;  rich  in  all  bountiful  and  practical  exhibition  of  the 
unsearchable  riches  of  Christ;  after  a  free,  bold,  joyous  fashion. 

For  here,  ere  I  close,  let  me  ask  you  to  notice  the  social 
bearing  of  the  precept  in  the  text,  as  imbedded  in  the  con- 
text. On  the  one  hand,  it  is  associated  with  the  preceding 
context.  "  Put  on  therefore,  as  the  elect  of  God,  holy  and 
beloved,  bowels  of  mercies,  kindness,  humbleness  of  mind, 
meekness,  long  suffering  ;  forbearing  one  another,  and  forgiv- 
ing one  another,  if  any  man  have  a  quarrel  against  any ;  even 
as  Christ  forgave  you,  so  also  do  ye.  And  above  all  these 
things  put  on  charity,  which  is  the  bond  of  perfectness.  And 
let  the  peace  of  God  rule  in  your  hearts,  to  the  which  also 
ye  are  called,  in  one  body  ;  and  be  ye  thankful"  (vers.  12, 15). 


200  THE  INDWELLING  WORD  OF  CHRIST. 

Here  are  gracious  elements ;  bowels  of  mercies,  kindness, 
humbleness  of  mind,  meekness,  long  suffering,  forbearance, 
and  forgiveness  ;  Christ-like  forgiveness  ;  charity,  as  the  bond 
of  perfectness  ;  the  peace  of  God  ruling  in  the  heart ;  unity 
thence  ;  and  thankfulness.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  associated 
with  what  follows — "  In  all  wisdom,  teaching  and  admonish- 
ing one  another,  in  psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual  songs  ; 
singing  with  grace  in  your  hearts  to  the  Lord  "  (ver.  1 6)  ; 
wise  teaching  and  monition  ;  decent  and  devout  singing. 

In  either  view,  this  indwelling  in  you  of  the  word  of 
Christ  is  not  the  indwelling  in  you  of  what  is  hard,  dry, 
stiff,  formal ;  like  a  mass  of  dead  matter  crammed  into  a 
dead  receptacle  ;  as  bales  of  goods  are  packed  in  a  warehouse  ; 
or  loads  of  unread  learning  are  crowded  on  the  shelves  of  a 
library,  kept  mainly  for  show.  It  is  the  indwelling  in  you 
of  what  is  free  and  fresh  and  living  as  the  breezes  of  heaven  ; 
gushing,  flowing,  as  Jordan's  full  flood  or  Jacob's  well ;  or 
say  rather,  as  the  water  of  which  Christ  spoke  to  the  woman 
at  Jacob's  well,  when  he  said,  "  The  water  which  I  shall  give, 
shall  be  in  you  a  well  of  water,  springing  up  into  everlast- 
ing life."  Then,  "out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart,  the 
mouth  speaketh."  Let  the  abundance  of  the  heart  be  the 
word  of  Christ  dwelling  in  you  richly.  Then  it  will  be  no 
dead  letter,  but  a  living  spirit ;  Christ  in  you,  the  hope  of 
glory. 

Let  the  word  of  Christ  so  dwell  in  you.  Let  it  be  Christ 
himself,  dwelling  in  you  ;  Christ  himself,  the  living  word. 
Let  his  word,  or  himself  the  word,  dwell  in  you  richly ; 
moulding,  fashioning,  vivifying,  regulating,  your  whole  inner 
man  ;  all  its  powers,  faculties,  affections  ;  its  susceptibilities 
and  sensibilities ;  its  movements  of  will.  Let  his  word,  let 
himself  in  his  word,  give  his  own  tone  and  temper  to  all  your 
emotions  of  joy  and  sorrow ;  of  fear,  or  anxiety,  or  love,  or 
hope.     Let  all  within  you   be  thus  imbued,  not  stiffly  and 


THE  INDWELLING  WORD  OF  CHRIST.  201 

artificially,  but  spontaneously  and  gladly,  with  the  word 
of  Christ  dwelling  in  you  richly  by  the  Spirit ;  and  so 
becoming  Christ  himself  dwelling  in  you  as  the  word  of  life. 
Then,  let  there  go  forth  from  you,  not  stiffly  and  artificially, 
but  spontaneously  and  gladly  and  lovingly,  streams  of  over- 
flowing benignity  and  benevolence  ;  rich  and  gracious  influ- 
ences of  holy  zeal  and  love  and  joy ;  to  the  glory  of  God, 
celebrated  in  songs  of  praise  ;  and  the  edifying  of  the  church, 
in  wise  teaching  and  admonition. 

In  conclusion,  let  the  three  following  counsels  suffice  for 
practical  application  of  our  theme  or  text. 

1.  Make  sure  of  the  first  condition  of  the  indwelling  of 
Christ's  word  in  you  ;  the  preciousness  of  Christ  himself. 
This  implies  you  dealing  with  Christ  personally ;  closing 
with  him  in  his  dealing  with  you  ;  and  so  finding  him  to  be 
precious.  Ah  !  make  sure  of  that ;  whoever  you  are,  what- 
ever you  are,  to  look  to  Christ  now.  .  Embrace  him  now.  Let 
him  embrace  you  now.  Let  there  be  a  close  and  afi'ectionate 
mutual  embrace  between  him  and  you. 

2.  See  to  it  that  nothing  is  allowed  to  dwell  in  you  that 
may  be  apt  to  hinder  the  indwelling  in  you  of  the  word  of 
Christ.  Mortify,  therefore,  your  members  which  are  on  the 
earth.  And  beware  of  allowing  any  root  of  bitterness  to  lurk 
in  you  unseen  and  unconfessed ;  Avhich  yet  springing  up 
may  trouble  yo\x. 

3.  Make  full  proof  of  all  suitable  helps  for  the  indwell- 
ing of  the  word  of  Christ  in  you.  Especially,  put  it  to  use. 
When  you  enter  into  your  closet  and  shut  the  door  ;  it  is  not 
for  vague  musing  or  melancholy  dreaming  :  it  is  for  real,  per- 
sonal, articulate,  converse  with  Christ ;  for  private,  confi- 
dential talk,  if  you  will.  AVhat  a  demand  is  there  here  for 
the  word  of  Christ  abiding  in  you  richly.  Doubtless,  the 
Spirit  conducts  the  intercourse.     But  he  must  have  materials. 


202  THE  INDWELLING  WOED  OF  CHRIST. 

And  they  are  furnislied  in  the  word  of  Christ.  For  the 
Spirit  would  not  have  all  to  be  inarticulate  sighing  or 
unutterable  groaning  in  the  fellowship  which  he  constitutes 
and  sustains.  He  will  minister  even  in  that  extremity ;  in 
that  sad  experience.  He  helpeth  our  infirmities  (Rom.  viii. 
26).  But,  ordinarily,  he  would  have  us  to  use  speech  ;  not 
loud,  but  though  low,  as  in  a  whisper,  still  clear.  What 
have  I  to  say  to  thee  1     What  hast  thou  to  say  to  me  1 


CHRIST  THE   ONLY  GAIN.  203 


XII. 

CHEIST  THE  Ol^LY  GAIN. 

"  That  I  may  win  Christ,  and  be  found  in  him." — Philippians  hi.  8,  9. 

This  is  perfect  security  and  consummate  blessedness.  The 
language  indicates  at  once  a  goal  and  a  starting-post ;  an 
end  and  a  beginning ;  that  I  may  win  Christ,  the  goal  or 
end  I  have  been  seeking  to  reach  ;  that  I  may  be  found  in 
him,  ready,  not  only  for  resistance  to  old  adversaries,  but 
for  a  new  start  and  onward  movement  towards  divine 
perfection. 

"  That  I  may  win  Christ."  Observe  how  this  idea  of 
winning  Christ  fits  into  the  apostle's  previous  statement  of 
his  experience.  He  speaks  of  certain  things  which  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  regard  as  gain  (ver.  7).  He  enumerates 
some  of  them  (vers.  5,  6).  They  are  all  of  them  spiritual 
privileges  or  attainments  ;  qualifications  valuable  in  a  religious 
or  spiritual  point  of  view.  No  doubt  they  secured  to  one 
possessing  them, — and  especially  to  such  a  one  as  Paul, — a 
large  measure  of  what  men  are  wont  to  covet  as  prizes  in  this 
world.  ISTever  man  surrendered  a  more  hopeful  career  than 
Paul  did  when  he  became  a  Christian.  But  it  is  not  to  any 
loss  of  that  nature  that  he  here  points.  The  things  in 
respect  of  which  he  once  thought  he  might  trust  in  the  flesh, 
he  prized  not  as  giving  him  a  good  standing  before  men,  but 
as  giving  him  a  riglit  standing  in  the  sight  of  God.  In  that 
view  they  were  gaia  to  him.     But  he  was  led  to  count  them 


204  CHEIST  THE  ONLY  GAIN. 

loss.     "  I  have  done  with  them  all,"  he  cries.     "  I  count 
them  but  dung,  if,  instead  of  them,  I  may  win  Christ." 

"That  I  may  be  found  in  him."  For  if  only  I  once 
win  Christ,  then,  whosoever  seeks  me  finds  me  in  Christ. 
Whatever  may  be  the  purpose  for  which  I  am  sought,  I  am 
found  in  Christ.  Is  it,  on  the  one  hand,  that  I  may  meet 
and  answer  old  charges  brought  against  me  1  I  am  found  in 
Christ  (ver.  9),  not  having  mine  own  righteousness,  which  is 
of  the  law,  but  that  which  is  of  the  faith  of  Christ,  the 
righteousness  which  is  of  God  by  faith.  Is  it,  on  the 
other  hand,  that  I  may  merge  the  past  in  the  future  ;  for- 
getting things  behind,  reaching  forth  unto  things  before, 
pressing  towards  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of 
God  in  Christ  Jesus  1  Still  let  me  be  found  in  Christ  (vers. 
10,  11),  "that  I  may  know  him,  and  the  power  of  his 
resurrection,  and  the  fellowship  of  his  sufferings,  being  made 
conformable  unto  his  death  ;  if  by  any  means  I  might  attain 
unto  the  resurrection  of  the  dead." 

Let  us  consider — 
I.  "What  it  is  to  win  Christ. 

II.  What  it  is  to  be  found  in  Christ. 

I.  To  win,  to  gain  (th^^su,  ver.  8)  Christ,  is — 1,  to  count 
him  gain  {^h^n,  ver.  7) ;  2,  to  covet  and  seek  him  as  gain ; 
3,  to  appropriate  him  as  gain  ;  4,  to  enjoy  him  as  gain. 

1,  To  count  Christ  gain.  Once,  my  circumcision,  my  place 
in  a  pious  family,  my  strict  sect,  my  fervid  zeal,  my  blame- 
less observance  of  the  law — these,  and  the  like  gifts  and 
endowments,  were,  in  a  religious  view,  as  grounds  of  confi- 
dence, gain  to  me.  Now  I  count  them  all  loss  for  Christ. 
Christ  is  now  to  me  what  these  other  things  were,  gain. 
Christ  alone  is,  in  that  view,  the  only  gain.  There  is  here  a 
great  change  of  mind  from  what  is  natural  to  us.  There  is 
an  entirely  new  estimate  of  gain  and  loss.     And  observe 


CHRIST  THE  ONLY  GAIN.  205 

what  is  the  object  in  question  with  reference  to  which  this 
new  estimate  of  gain  and  loss  is  formed.  It  is  my  standing 
before  God,  my  relation  to  him,  my  acceptance  in  his  sight. 
What  is  gain  to  me  is  what  puts  me  on  a  right  footing  with 
God.  This  I  once  thought  that  my  personal  qualifications  of 
birth,  profession,  privilege,  attainment,  might  do.  Now  I 
see  that  for  any  such  purpose  they  are  useless,  and  worse 
than  useless.  In  the  view  of  the  end  for  which  I  once 
prized  them,  I  now  perceive  that  Christ  is  gain.  There  is 
much  impUed  in  your  really,  Avith  true  conviction,  perceiving 
this. 

(1.)  You  are  in  earnest  as  regards  the  end  with  reference 
to  which  you  estimate  what  is  gain.  That  end  is  your  being 
in  a  position  (ver.  2)  to  Avorship  God  in  the  spirit  and  with 
joy;  your  being  entitled  to  have  confidence  in  his  presence  ; 
your  being  upon  terms  of  favour  with  him.  Now,  are  you 
in  earnest  here  1  Is  your  standing  before  God  really  matter 
of  concern  to  you  1  Is  the  question  a  serious  one  with  you, 
Do  I  stand  well  with  my  God  1    Is  it  felt  to  be  vital  1 

Naturally  it  is  not  so.  You  care  little,  or  not  at  all,  for 
the  righting  of  your  position  towards  God.  You  may  care  for 
your  being  safe  in  the  position  in  which  you  are.  You  may 
have  some  anxiety  about  the  consequences  of  continuing  in 
that  position,  and  some  desire  to  evade  •  or  to  escape  from 
them.  You  may  prize  and  welcome  any  device  that  looks 
that  way.  The  trees  of  the  Lord's  garden  to  hide  among  ; 
fallen  fig-leaves  sewed  together  to  cover  your  nakedness  ; 
these  are  in  that  view  gain  to  you.  As  to  anything  more  ; 
as  to  what  God  thinks  of  you,  how  God  feels  towards  you, 
what  you  are  to  him  and  he  is  to  you, — as  to  aU  that, — alas  ! 
how  indifferent  and  unconcerned  can  you  be  ! 

Is  it  otherwise  with  you  now  ]  Is  it  a  distress  to  you, — 
a  real  grief, — that  there  should  be  any  misunderstanding 
between  you  and  your  Maker  1     Are  you  so  smitten  with  a 


206  CHRIST  THE  ONLY  GAIN. 

sense  of  his  glorious  and  amiable  majesty,  and  the  misery  of 
your  being  outcast  from  him,  that  no  mere  measure  of  indul- 
gence on  God's  part,  and  no  imagination  of  impunity  on  your 
part,  can  content  you  now  1  Ah  !  you  cry,  I  would  not 
merely  reckon  on  the  chance  of  somehow  not  being  con- 
demned at  last.  I  desire  to  stand  right  with  my  God  now. 
I  care  not,  in  comparison,  for  mere  impunity.  It  is  not 
exemption  from  suffering  I  solicit.  I  think  I  may  almost 
say  I  could  accept  the  punishment  of  my  sins.  But,  oh  ! 
I  want  this  long  and  dreary  warfare  between  my  Maker  and 
myself  to  be  well  ended.  I  would  fain  see  how  again  all 
between  us  may  be  peace  1  Is  that,  or  anything  like  it,  your 
desire  1 

Then  (2)  it  is  no  wonder  that  what  things  were  gain  to 
you  are  now  counted  loss.  There  are  many  things  a  man 
may  have  about  him,  many  things  he  may  do,  that  may  have 
a  certain  kind  of  value,  if  all  he  cares  for  is  the  patching  up 
of  a  sort  of  truce  or  compromise  with  God, — or  rather  not 
so  much  with  God  as  with  his  own  conscience.  But  how 
worthless  are  they  all  when  the  question  comes  to  be.  Are 
God  and  the  man  personallj''  to  be  thoroughly  at  one  1  For 
in  truth  they  have  no  real  bearing  on  that  question  at  all. 
They  may  be  thought  perhaps  to  have  an  efficacy  as  modi- 
fying or  mitigating  the  results  of  the  relation  already  sub- 
sisting between  the  parties.  But  the  relation  itself  they  do 
not  touch.  They  do  not  cancel  guilt.  They  profess  only  to 
supply  a  sort  of  set-off  against  it.  They  dp  not  overcome 
alienation.  They  can  only  serve  to  dissemble  and  disguise 
it.  They  do  not  establish  cordial  faith  and  love.  Eather 
they  are  to  be  taken  as  a  substitute  for  these  affections  ;  as 
making  up  for  the  want  of  them.  The  things  in  respect 
of  which  I  once  thought  I  might  have  confidence  in  the 
flesh — my  Christian  birth,  my  baptism,  my  strict  profession, 
my   freedom   from  gross   vice,  my   punctual  devotion,  my 


CHRIST  THE  ONLY  GAIN.  207 

zealous  service, — what  are  tliey  all  now  to  me,  when  I  am 
made  to  feel  that  there  is  something  originally,  radically, 
fatally,  wrong  in  the  footing  on  which  I  am  with  my 
God,  and  that  I  never  can  be  happy  or  free  or  loving 
until  that  is  righted  1  I  may  increase  my  painstaking  in 
every  pious  duty.  I  may  strain  every  nerve  in  trying  to 
do  good  and  to  be  good.  I  may  wage  a  fierce  warfare  with 
the  evil  that  is  in  me.  I  may  chastise  and  mortify  myself. 
I  may  exhaust  myself  in  efforts  to  please  him  in  whose  hands 
is  my  life.  But  alas  !  it  is  all  in  vain.  These  methods  wiU 
stand  me  in  stead  no  longer.  They  do  not  heal  the  hurt. 
They  do  not  mend  the  matter.  Eather,  as  regards  a  really 
good  understanding,  things  grow  worse  an  1  worse.  The 
more  I  seek  to  stand  right  with  my  Father  in  heaven,  the 
more  hopeless  does  my  miserable  state  of  wrong  standing 
become. 

(3).  But  just  as  all  things  else  are  thus  felt  to  be  worth- 
less dung,  Christ  is  seen  to  be  gain.  Oh  !  the  relief,  the 
joy,  of  a  single  glimpse  of  Christ  breaking  in  upon  the  dark 
experience  of  a  man  desperately  trying  to  be  just  with  God  ! 
Oh  !  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  !  Yes  ; 
in  your  extremity,  all  the  supports  you  ever  thought  you 
could  lean  on  before  God  giving  way,  Christ  may  well  be 
counted  gain  ;  Christ  the  reconciler  ;  Christ  the  peacemaker  ; 
Christ  the  expiator  of  guilt  ;  Christ  the  justifier  of  the  un- 
godly ;  Christ  the  Son,  coming  forth  from  the  Father  to  open 
to  you  the  Father's  heart,  that  you  may  know  and  believe 
the  love  wherewith  the  Father  loveth  you  !  This  is  the 
Christ  who  now  comes  instead  of  all  that  you  ever  reckoned 
gain,  all  that  you  ever  thought  might  warrant  confidence 
before  God.  And  how  infinitely  surpassing,  in  that  view,  is 
the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  !  It  is  indeed,  you 
now  cry,  an  excellent  thing  to  know  Christ ;  Christ  is  worth 
the  knowing,  worth  the  winning.     Is  he  not  a  Christ  who, 


208  CHRIST  THE  ONLY  GAIN. 

if  I  win  him,  will  thorouglily  meet  my  case  ?  Having  him,  I 
must  be  complete.  For  I  see  in  him  sin,  all  sin,  freely 
pardoned,  without  price  or  penance  of  mine  ;  my'self  a  sinner, 
of  sinners  the  chief,  no  longer  under  condemnation,  but  ac- 
quitted, justified,  accepted ;  the  prison  garb  of  my  guilt 
exchanged  for  the  fairest  robe  child  ever  wore,  I  see  an 
instant  end  of  the  weary  attempt  to  amend  the  old  position, 
and  instead  of  that  the  way  wonderfully  opened  for  the  im- 
mediate occupying  of  a  new  one.  I  see  free  grace,  perfect 
righteousness,  a  holy  salvation,  life,  love,  liberty,  all  in 
Christ.  All  else  is  loss  ;  Christ  alone,  Christ  is  counted 
gain. 

2.  Christ  is  coveted  and  sought  as  gain.  You  not  merely 
count  Christ  as  gain,  but  covet  and  seek  him  as  gain.  But 
are  not  these  two  things  the  same  1  Or  does  not  the  one 
include  the  other  ]  What  I  count  or  reckon  to  be  gain,  how 
can  I  but  covet  and  desire  and  seek  1  Nay,  the  heart  is 
deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately  wicked  :  who  can 
know  it  ?  The  question  must  be  faithfully  pressed  home. 
Are  you  really  so  thoroughly  in  earnest  in  this  matter  as  not 
merely  to  perceive  that  Christ  is  gain,  but  to  be  honestly 
willing  to  possess  this  gain  1  Nor  is  it  merely  to  the  careless 
and  unconverted  that  the  question  applies,  but  even  perhaps 
still  more  to  not  a  few  of  those  who  are  awakened  and  con- 
vinced. 

In  dealing  with  a  case  of  genuine  spiritual  distress,  when 
the  conscience  has  been  deeply  moved,  the  understanding 
enlightened,  the  whole  inner  man  agitated.  I  meet  with  a 
sort  of  unconquerable  repugnance  to  the  acceptance  of  the 
gospel,  an  obstinate  refusing  to  be  comforted,  which  fairly 
baffles  and  greatly  perplexes  me.  The  sufferer,  I  cannot  for 
a  moment  doubt,  is  sincere.  He  sincerely  owns  guilt.  He 
sincerely  renounces  all  confidence  in  the  flesh.  He  sincerely 
believes  that  salvation  is,  and  can  be,  only  of  grace,  through 


CHKIST  THE   ONLY  GAEST.  209 

faith  in  Christ.  Intelligently  and  devoutly,  with  full  con- 
sent, he  responds  to  all  I  say  when  I  tell  him  of  the  worth- 
lessness  of  all  creature  righteousness,  and  tell  him  also  of  the 
worthiness  of  the  Lamh  that  was  slain.  But  alas  !  he  com- 
plains it  is  to  him  like  the  cup  of  Tantalus,  ever  near  to  his 
burning  lips,  and  yet  ever  escaping  his  grasp.  It  is  in  vain 
that  I  represent  to  him,  however  affectionately,  the  entire 
and  absolute  freeness  of  the  gospel  offer,  the  ample  warrant 
he  has  for  taking  Christ  and  taking  comfort  in  Christ,  the 
infallible  certainty  and  wide  sweep  of  that  gracious  promise, 
"  Him  that  cometh  unto  me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out." 
Thou  art  perishing,  I  cry  ;  thou  art  lost.  But  once  win 
Christ,  and  all  is  weU.  I  see  it,  I  feel  it :  he  answers  ;  but, 
woe  is  me  !  I  cannot. 

Weary  of  expostulation,  argument,  entreaty, — sick  of  the 
task  of  meeting  in  detail  the  endless  difficulties  and  objec- 
tions he  conjures  up,  I  turn  upon  him  with  the  abrupt 
question.  Are  you  wilHng  to  have  this  Christ  1  Honestly,  do 
you  desire  him  1  For  may  not  this  depression  really  cover 
either  an  indolent  and  dilettante  sort  of  spiritualism,  treating 
the  most  solemn  realities  of  eternity  as  if  they  were  merely 
sentimental  miseries  ;  or  a  morbid  fondness  for  being  melan- 
choly, and  being  sympathised  with  as  melancholy  ;  or  a 
secret  reluctance  manfully  to  face  and  grapple  with  some 
sacrifice  of  self-esteem  or  self-indulgence  felt  to  be  inevitable 
if  Christ  is  to  be  won?  Ah  !  it  will  not  do  to  be. for  ever 
treating  unbelief,  even  when  it  takes  the  guise  of  most 
earnest  spiritual  soul-exercise  and  soul  concern,  as  a  mis- 
fortune, a  calamity ;  to  be  sympathising  with  it,  and  almost 
apologising  for  it.  I  cannot  give  you  credit  for  counting 
Christ  gain  ;  at  all  events,  I  cannot  give  you  credit  for  that 
conviction  being  very  genuine  and  deep,  unless  you  show 
that  you  really  covet  him  as  gain  by  being  willing  and  con- 

p 


210  CHRIST  THE  ONLY  GAIN. 

senting  to  have  him.  I  must  remind  you  that  convictions, 
however  genuine  and  deep  in  the  conscience  and  the  under- 
standing, are  not  saving  unless  there  goes  along  with  them 
the  willing  heart. 

This  renewing  of  your  will,  indeed,  is  the  main  part,  the 
very  essence,  of  the  Spirit's  work  in  your  conversion,  your 
effectual  callmg.  There  may  be  a  sense  of  sin  and  a  know- 
ledge of  Christ.  The  sense  of  sin  may  be  so  poignant  as  to 
stir  the  soul's  profoundest  fountains  of  grief,  and  shame,  and 
fear.  The  knowledge  of  Christ  may  be  so  clear  and  capti- 
vating as  to  prompt  the  feeling — "  would  he  were  mine  ;  were 
he  but  mine,  I  would  be  blessed  indeed."  But  all  that,  as 
you  need  to  be  continually  told,  is  compatible  with  an  un- 
renewed will,  with  the  entire  absence  of  any  real  and  hearty 
willingness  to  have  Christ  as  your  gain.  And  oh  !  remember, 
brethren,  that  while  the  convinced  conscience  craves  for 
Christ,  and  the  enlightened  understanding  sees  Christ,  it  is 
the  willing  heart  that  wins  him. 

Oh  !  make  sure,  then,  of  the  willmg  heart,  the  willing 
mind.  Wanting  that,  you  may  have  much  spiritual  exercise 
about  sin  and  about  Christ  all  in  vain.  Having  that,  even 
though  your  sense  of  sin  may  as  yet  be  very  inadequate,  and 
your  acquaintance  with  Christ  very  imperfect,  still  it  is 
enough.  Let  the  stress  of  your  concern  as  regards  your 
spiritual  state  be  all  in  the  direction  of  the  willing  mind,  the 
willing  heart.  Lay  yourselves  out  for  that.  Let  the  desire 
of  your  souls  be  towards  Christ.  Earnestly  seek  Christ. 
Think  not  that  he  is  to  be  won  unsought.  Think  not  that 
he  is  to  come  in  some  mysterious  manner  into  your  arms, 
merely  because  you  feel  your  need  of  him  and  see  how  good 
a  thing  it  would  be  for  you  to  have  him.  If  he  is  worth  the 
winning,  he  is  worth  the  seeking.  Therefore  seek  ye  the 
Lord.    Seek  with  the  earnestness  of  the  merchantman  seeking 


CHPvIST  THE  ONLY  GAIN.  211 

goodly  pearls.  Seek  with  the  importunity  of  the  woman 
who  would  take  no  denial.  Seek  with  the  perseverance  of 
the  widow  who  would  give  the  judge  no  rest.  Seek,  and  seek 
on  till  you  find. 

Above  all,  seek  with  the  sincerity  of  a  perfect  willingness 
to  comply  with  all  the  terms  on  which  the  finding  of  Christ 
depends  ;  a  willingness  to  count  all  things  but  loss  for  Christ ; 
a  willingness  to  have  no  other  righteousness  but  Christ,  no 
other  strength  but  Christ,  no  other  life  but  Christ,  no  other 
portion  but  Christ ;  a  willingness  to  bear  the  reproach  of 
Christ,  to  take  up  the  cross  of  Christ,  to  fill  up  in  your  bodies 
the  measure  of  the  suffering  of  Christ ;  a  willingness  to  fall 
in,  absolutely  and  without  reserve,  with  the  plan  and  purpose 
of  the  Father  that  the  undivided  glory  of  your  salvation 
should  belong  to  Christ,  that  you  should  be  nothing,  and 
Christ  should  be  all  in  all.  Seek  ye  the  Lord  thus  as  your 
gain.  Covet,  desire,  seek  him,  in  such  a  spirit  as  this.  In- 
stead of  ever  complaining  that  you  cannot  get  him,  instead  of 
always  condoling  with  yourselves,  and  asking  all  men  to  con- 
dole with  you,  because  your  case,  as  you  choose  to  imagine,  is 
not  with  sufficient  personality  and  particularity  met  and  pro- 
vided for,  be  up  and  doing.  Gird  up  the  loins  of  your  minds  ; 
go  out  of  yourselves  in  search  of  Christ.  Search  for  him  in 
the  word.  Search  for  him  in  the  gospel.  Search  for  him  in 
ordinances.  Search  for  him  by  prayer.  Search  for  him  as 
willing,  anxious  to  find  him.  "  Seek  ye  the  Lord  while  he 
may  be  found,"  "  I  have  heard  thee  in  a  time  accepted,  and 
in  a  day  of  salvation  have  I  succoured  thee."  "  Behold,  now 
is  the  accepted  time.  Behold,  now  is  the  day  of  salvation." 
"  Seek,  and  ye  shall  find." 

3.  For  now  Christ  is  appropriated  as  gain.  "  He  that 
seeketh  findeth."  He  who  seeks  Christ,  willing,  just  as  he 
is,  to  have  Christ  just  as  he  is,  finds  him,  and  in  finding  Christ, 


212  CHKIST  THE  ONLY  GAIN. 

appropriates  liim,  and  in  appropriating  Christ,  feels  him  to  be 
gain.  It  is  for  this,  and  nothing  short  of  this,  that  you  are 
asked  to  count  all  things  but  loss  that  you  may  thus  win 
Christ.  It  would  be  a  poor  gospel  that  called  you  to  re- 
renounce  all  your  confidence  in  the  flesh,  to  let  go  those 
palpable  grounds  of  trust  which  might  be  felt  to  give  you 
some  standing  before  God,  and  did  not  also  provide  for  your 
winning  Christ  in  the  full  sense  of  your  being  enabled,  not 
merely  to  count  him  to  be  gain,  nor  merely  to  covet  and  seek 
him  as  gain,  but  to  appropriate  him  to  yourselves  as  gain, 
actually  to  win  him  as  your  own. 

Yes  ;  it  is  that  I  may  win  Christ  that  I  am  to  part  with 
everything  else.  Surely,  therefore,  if  I  am  not  to  make  a 
foolish  bargain,  an  unprofitable  exchange,  Christ  may  be  won. 

Do  you  ask  how  1  I  reply,  by  faith,  by  faith  alone  ;  faith 
making  Christ  mine,  as  thoroughly,  personally,  consciously 
mine,  as  those  other  things  were  mine.  These  things  were 
at  all  events  really  in  my  possession,  actually  mine.  As  to 
my  being  "circumcised  on  the  eighth  day,  of  the  stock  of 
Israel,  of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin,  an  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews ; 
as  touching  the  law,  a  Pharisee"  (ver.  5) ;  as  to  all  these 
qualifications  there  could  be  no  room  for  doubting  that  they 
really  belonged  to  me.  There  could  be  no  question  as  to  their 
being  mine.  But  now  I  am  to  discard  them  all.  And  for 
what  1  for  whom  1  For  Christ.  But  not  surely  for  the 
mere  knowledge  of  Christ,  however  excellent ;  not  for  the 
mere  sense  of  my  need  of  Christ ;  not  for  a  continual  seeking 
of  Christ.  E^o  ;  but  for  Christ  himself ;  for  Christ  found, 
attained,  appropriated  as  mine  ;  that  I  may  win  Christ. 

Ah  !  if  Christ  were  not  thus  to  be  won,  it  were  better  for 
me  to  keep  by  those  old,  original  grounds  of  confidence,  which 
at  least  have  this  recommendation,  that  they  can  be  sensibly 
apprehended,  estimated,  weighed,  and  measured.     The  good 


CHRIST  THE  ONLY  GAIK  213 

upon  me,  in  me,  about  me,  in  which  I  used  to  trust,  is  mine  ; 
undeniahly  mine.  I  can  recognise,  touch,  and  handle  it  as 
mine.  And  if  I  am  to  let  it  all  go  for  the  sake  of  another 
good,  the  good  that  is  in  Christ,  the  good  that  Christ  is, 
on  the  mere  chance  of  that  good  being  some  time  and  some 
way,  I  know  not  when  or  how,  mine ;  I  commit  myself  to  a 
most  intolerable  experience  of  suspense  and  hazard.  I  am 
willing  to  let  all  go.  I  do  in  fact  let  all  go.  But  it  is  that 
I  may  win  Christ ;  that  I  may  really  get  hold  of  him  3  that  I 
may  have  him  as  mine. 

But  ho^s"-  ?  you  ask  again.  Again  I  answer,  by  faith  ;  by 
faith  alone.  The  thing  cannot  be  made  plainer  to  you  by 
definition  or  description.  If  there  be  any  remaining  diffi- 
culty, it  must  be  removed  by  experiment.  "  Seek,  and  ye 
shall  find."  Seek  and  win  Christ.  Believe  and  be  saved. 
Believe  and  live. 

Nay,  but  still  you  ask,  how  shall  I  know  that  I  have 
appropriated,  or  am  appropriating,  Christ  1  How  shall  I  know 
that  I  have  won,  or  that  I  am  winning,  Christ  as  mine  ?  That, 
I  rejoin,  is  not  now  the  question.  I  am  not  speaking  of  that 
reflex  assurance  of  faith  which  concludes,  on  credible  evi- 
dence, that  my  belief  is  genuine,  and  that  therefore  Christ  is 
mine.  I  speak  of  the  direct,  immediate,  simple,  and  straiglit- 
forward  acting  of  faith  ;  faith  dealing  not  with  itself  but  with 
its  object ;  dealing  with  Christ ;  with  Christ  offered  in  the 
gospel ;  with  Christ  freely  given  by  the  Father  ;  Christ  com- 
mended by  the  Spirit ;  Christ  owned  by  your  own  conscience ; 
Christ  welcomed  into  your  very  heart.  Oh  !  be  sure  you 
have  not  far  to  seek.    You  have  not  long  to  wait, 

Tliis  Christ  whom  you  now  reckon  to  be  the  only  gain ; 
this  Christ  whom  you  now  really  covet  and  would  fain  grasp 
as  all  your  gain  ;  this  Christ  is  yours ;  yours  freely,  imme- 
diately ;  yours  now  for  the  taking.     You  win  Christ.     It  is 


214  CHRIST   THE  ONLY  GAIN. 

his  own  wish ;  it  is  his  Father's  good  pleasure ;  it  is  the  aim 
of  his  Spirit's  coming  that  you  should  win  him.  "  Be  not 
faithless,  therefore,  hut  helieving."  Eaise  not  questions. 
Ask  not  for  signs.  Say  not  that  if  you  saw  and  felt  the  scars 
you  would  helieve.  Lift  up  the  eye  of  faith.  Behold  and 
see.  Before  you,  in  immediate  contact  with  you,  face  to  face, 
is  the  crucified  one.  "  Take  me,"  he  cries ;  "  my  birth,  my 
circumcision,  my  baptism,  my  obedience,  my  sufferings,  my 
death,  my  resurrection,  my  life,  my  grace,  my  glory ; — my- 
self. Take  me  as  an  equivalent,  far  more  than  an  equiva- 
lent, for  all  that  you  ever  thought  you  might  lean  on  or  trust 
in  before  God.  Come,  0  doubter,  see  and  feel  my  wounds  ; 
wounds  borne  for  such  as  thou  art,  for  thee  thyself,  thy  very 
self."  Wilt  thou  not  fall  down  before  him,  absolutely  unable 
to  hold  out  any  longer  against  such  love  1  WUt  thou  not  say 
unto  him,  "  My  Lord,  and  my  God  ! " 

4.  You  win  Christ  so  as  to  enjoy  him  as  gain.  You  win 
him  ;  not  as  the  miser  hoards  his  wealth,  to  keep  it ;  not  as 
the  spendthrift  gets  liis  property,  to  waste  it.  Christ  is  gain 
to  you,  not  for  show  and  semblance,  for  name  and  reputation 
merely.  He  is  yours  for  profitable  use  ;  for  peace,  content- 
ment, honour,  happiness,  and  whatever  else  is  comj)rehended 
in  your  standing  right  with  God.  Be  well  assured  that 
nothing  short  of  your  thus  winning  Christ,  in  the  full  sense 
of  your  not  merely  appropriating  him  as  gain,  but  using  and 
enjoying  him  as  gain,  will  reconcile  you  to  the  sacrifice  you 
have  to  make  of  your  self-rehance  and  self-esteem,  or  enable 
you  fully  and  finally  to  make  it.  But  what  a  rich  compen- 
sation for  all  you  have  to  give  up  is  your  thus  winning 
Christ,  so  winning  him  as  to  have,  to  use,  to  enjoy  him ! 

To  win  Christ  !  What  a  j)rize  is  this  !  It  is  to  win  a 
friend,  a  brother ;  a  friend  who  lays  down  his  life  for  me  ; 
a  brother  who  shares  with  me  all  the  love  with  which  his 


CHRIST  THE  ONLY   GAIN.  215 

Father  loveth  him,  and  all  the  glory  which  his  Father  giveth 
him.  To  win  Christ  !  It  is  to  win  an  inexhaustible  fulness 
of  grace  and  truth ;  a  fountain  of  atoning  blood  ever  freshly 
flowing  ;  an  unction  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  shedding  light  on  all 
things,  breathing  love  into  all  things.  Oh  !  it  is  a  great  word 
this  :  it  is  a  great  thing  to  win  Christ,  to  get  him,  to  use  him, 
to  enjoy  him,  as  really  gain  to  me. 

That  I  may  win  Christ !  Brethren  beloved,  it  is  a  real 
attainment ;  it  is  a  positive  gain.  It  is  not  a  bare  negation  ;  a 
painful  exercise  of  self-denial ;  the  enforced  renunciation  of 
self- righteousness ;  the  mere  emptying  myself,  or  suffering 
myself  to  be  beggared  of  all  I  used  to  lean  on  and  look  to  and 
trust  in.  That  is  not  Christianity  :  it  is  not  the  doctrine  of 
Christ  or  the  experience  of  the  Christian.  The  gospel  calls 
me  not  to  famine  but  to  fulness,  when  it  calls  me  to  win 
Christ.  I  am  to  feed  on  Christ.  I  am  to  grow  up  into 
Christ.  I  am  to  eat  his  very  flesh  and  drink  his  very  blood. 
I  am  to  win  him,  so  as  to  find  his  flesh  to  be  meat  indeed, 
and  his  blood  to  be  drink  indeed. 

Who  is  he  who  would  persuade  me  to  change  my  whole 
natural  habit  of  thought,  my  whole  natural  course  of  Hfe,  to 
forsake  the  old  refuges,  the  trees  of  the  garden,  to  cast  off 
the  old  coverings,  the  fig-leaves,  and  to  come  forth,  naked, 
shivering,  shuddering,  a  guilty  soul  confronting  an  angry 
God  1  And  what  has  he  to  give  me  to  replace  the  confidence 
I  have  lost  ]  Himself.  I  may  win  him.  He  will  be  to  me 
instead  of  all  things  else.  Take  me,  he  cries,  take  me  as  a 
substitute,  for  whatever  you  are  required  to  part  with.  Prove 
me.  See  if  I  am  not  a  rich  equivalent  for  all.  IVIy  righteous- 
ness, the  righteousness  of  the  slain  Lamb,  is  better  for  you 
than  any  apron  of  your  own  devising.  I  am  a  better  hiding- 
place  than  the  best  trees  of  Eden's  garden.  In  me  are  hid 
all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  ;  unsearchable 


216  CHRIST  THE  ONLY  GAIN. 

riches  are  mine.  The  Father's  favour  is  mine  for  you  ;  the 
Father's  love  and  liberality  ;  the  Father's  heavenly  inherit- 
ance. I  am  myself  the  Father's  gift  to  you.  I  ask  you  to 
make  no  sacrifice,  without  offering  to  you  ample  compensation. 
I  call  on  you  to  count  all  things  but  loss  ;  but  it  is  that  you 
may  win  me.  And  is  not  that  enough  ?  Yes,  Lord,  for 
"  whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  1  and  there  is  none  upon 
earth  that  I  desire  besides  thee.  My  flesh  and  my  heart 
faileth,  but  God  is  the  strength  of  my  heart  and  my  portion 
for  ever  "  (Ps.  Ixxiii.  25,  26). 

II,  To  be  found  in  Christ  is  the  fitting  sequel  of  winning 
Christ.  It  is  the  double  fruit,  the  twofold  good,  of  winning 
Christ.     I  am  found  in  Christ. 

For  defence,  I  am  to  be  found  in  Christ ;  that  I  may 
meet  every  adversary ;  that  I  may  silence  every  ansAver, 
For  that  I  can  do  now,  far  otherwise  than  I  used  to  do  before. 
Once  I  had  nothing  better  to  present  than  my  own  righteous- 
ness. With  that  I  tried  to  quench  the  fiery  darts  of  the 
adversary  ;  thinking  that  I  might  thrust  in  some  goodness  of 
my  own  to  avert  the  stroke,  at  whatever  point  he  might 
assail.  ]SI"ow  I  have  always  to  present  on  ever)''  side  an 
impregnable  front.  I  have  a  righteousness,  not  my  own,  but 
wholly  divine,  to  plead  in  every  emergency ;  against  every 
adversary  who  would  assail  or  question  my  standing,  I 
have  the  apostle's  challenge ;  "  it  is  God  that  justifieth  : 
who  is  he  that  condemneth  1  It  is  Christ  that  died,  yea  rather 
that  is  risen  again,"  "  Who  shall  separate  us  from  the  love 
of  Christ?" 

But  I  am  to  win  Christ,  so  as  to  be  found  in  him,  not 
merely  to  meet  and  answer  every  assault  of  the  accusing 
adversary,  but  to  meet  also  and  obey  the  high  calling  of  God 
in  Christ,     For  winning  Christ,  and  being  found  iu  him,  I 


CHRIST  THE  ONLY  GAIN.  2l7 

would  press  on.  As  one  -with  him,  I  would  now  know  him 
as  he  is  ;  I  would  know  more  of  his  mind,  and  know  it  Avith 
more  sympathy  of  my  mind  with  his.  I  would  know  more 
of  his  mind,  in  his  passing  through  my  sufferings,  which  he 
made  his,  to  his  glory,  which  he  makes  mine  ;  through  death 
to  life.  Yes  !  If  I  am  found  in  Christ,  it  is  that  I  may  die 
with  him  into  sin,  and  live  with  him  unto  righteousness,  and 
unto  God.  It  is  that  I  may  grow  in  grace,  and  in  the  know- 
ledge of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  that  in  him  I  may 
go  on  to  perfection. 

Thus  to  win  Christ  and  be  found  in  him,  how  blessed  ! 
"  To  be  found  in  him  " — when  1  ISTow — 0  my  brother  ! 
most  emphatically  now.  Not  an  hour,  not  a  moment,  to  be 
lost !      ]S»"ow  is  the  accepted  time  ;  now,  and  only  now  ! 

When  ?  does  one  ask  again  1  when  but  always,  in  all  cir- 
cumstances, evermore  ?  When  enemies  reproach  you,  when 
your  heart  misgives  you,  when  doubts  arise  within,  and  dark 
questionings  invade  your  peace  ;  when  difficulties  are  started, 
which  you  cannot  solve,  and  the  ground  seems  giving  way 
under  your  feet :  oh  to  be  found  in  Christ  then,  as  little  children 
nestling  in  his  bosom,  not  careful  to  deal  with  every  foe,  or 
with  any  fear,  content  to  look  up  into  his  loving  face,  and 
say.  Thou  shalt  answer.  Lord,  for  me  !  To  be  found  in  Christ, 
when  hell  threatens  and  all  its  pains  take  hold  on  you  ;  in 
Christ,  who  himself  descended  thither,  and  spoiled  all  its 
principalities  on  his  cross  :  to  b6  found  in  Christ  when 
heaven  opens,  that  you  may  sit  with  him  in  the  heavenly 
places ;  to  be  found  in  Christ  when  earth  vexes,  and  aU  on 
earth  is  felt  to  be  vanity,  still  able  to  say,  If  I  have  nothing 
else  worth  living  for,  to  me  to  live  is  Christ :  to  be  found  in 
Christ,  when  duty  calls,  in  him  who  said,  "  I  must  be  about 
my  Father's  business  :"  to  be  found  in  Christ,  when  sin 
besets,  in  him  wlio  said,  "  Get  thee  behind  me  Satan  : "  to  bo 


218  CHKIST  THE  ONLY  GAIN. 

found  in  Christ  when  sorrow  conies,  in  him  w^ho  wept  at 
Bethany,  and  as  he  went  on  his  way  to  Calvary,  could  still 
say,  "The  cup  which  my  Father  giveth  me,  shall  I  not  drink 
it  1 "  to  he  found  in  Christ  in  the  hour  of  death,  in  him 
who  cried,  "Father,  into  thy  hands  I  commend  my  Spirit !"  to 
be  found  in  Christ  in  the  day  of  doom,  in  him  to  whom, 
at  his  own  bar,  you  may  lift  the  living,  trusting  voice,  "Thou 
hast  answered.  Lord,  for  me  !" 

To  be  found  in  Christ !  When  1  does  one  still  ask  1 
When,  but  through  endless  ages,  in  those  realms  of  unfading 
beauty  and  bliss,  where  all  the  family  of  God,  angels  and 
men  together,  are  gathered  into  one  in  Christ  1  Then  shall 
ye  be  found  in  Christ,  associated  for  ever  with  all  the  holy 
ones ;  found  in  Christ,  sharing  his  glory  and  his  joy,  to  the 
praise  of  God  the  Father,  world  without  end.      Amen. 

And  what  of  you,  who  in  death,  on  the  judgment  day, 
throughout  eternity,  are  not  found  in  Clirist  ?  What  is  to 
become  of  you,  when,  too  late,  the  discovery  flashes  upon  you 
that  you  have  not  won  Christ,  and  are  not  to  be  found  in 
him  1  Where  are  you  to  be  found  1  In  whom  ?  Lying  in 
the  wicked  one,  doomed  to  the  everlasting  fije  prepared  for 
the  devil  and  his  angels  ;  none  to  answer  for  you  then ; 
hell  opening  its  wide  jaws  to  receive  you. 

Oh  !  ye  Christless,  Godless  men  !  Is  it  not  high  time 
for  you  to  awake  out  of  sleep  ?  You  may  have  some  sort  of 
goodness,  in  which  you  think  you  may  perhaps  wrap  your- 
selves in  the  trying  hour.  You  may  lean  on  a  name,  a 
I^rofession,  a  creed,  a  form  ;  or  on  some  amiable  qualities  you 
seem  to  possess,  some  decent  virtues  you  cultivate,  some 
pious  deeds  you  do.  But  will  these  be  gain  to  you  in  the 
day  when  the  secrets  of  all  hearts  are  revealed,  and  your 
deep  alienation  from  God,  amid  them  all,  is  relentlessly  laid 
bare  1     What  a  discovery  to  make  then,  that  they  are  loss. 


CHRIST  THE  ONLY  GAIN.  219 

that  they  are  all  dung  !  to  discover  that  then ;  when  there 
is  no  Christ  to  be  won,  and  all  hope  of  your  being  found  in 
him  is  gone  for  ever  !  Oh  !  rather  let  the  discovery  be  made 
to  you  now  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  acquiesced  in  by  you,  in 
your  quickened  conscience  and  broken  heart.  "  Seek  ye  the 
Lord,  while  he  may  be  found." 


220  THE  FOUNDATION   OF  GOD. 


XIII. 

THE  FOUNDATION  OF  GOD. 

"  Nevertheless  tlie  foundation  of  God  standeth  sure,  having  this  seal, 
The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his.  And,  Let  every  one  that 
nameth  the  name  of  Christ  depart  from  iniquity." — 2  Timothy 
ii.  19. 

The  scene  here  is  one  of  destruction  and  desolation.  On  all 
sides  liouses  are  shaken  and  overturned.  The  houses  are 
individuals  or  communities  professing  to  believe  the  gospel. 
The  faith  of  some,  of  several,  of  many  diversely  minded  and 
diversely  influenced,  is  overthrown.  But  amid  the  storm 
and  havoc,  the  wreck  and  ruin  occasioned  by  false  principles 
issuing  in  corrupt  practice,  there  is  a  building  which  standeth 
sure.  It  is  the  foundation  of  God.  It  is  founded  and  built 
on  the  rock,  which  is  God  the  Son  ;  and  it  is  founded  and 
built  thereon  by  God,  the  Holy  Ghost,  according  to  the  pur- 
pose of  God  the  Father.  Thus,  on  a  tlireefold  warrant,  it  is 
entitled  to  be  called  the  foundation  of  God ;  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost.  Now  it  may  be  the  church  collective  of  which 
this  is  said,  the  church  which  has  the  Lord's  promise  that 
the  gates  of  hell  shall  not  j)revail  against  her.  But  it  may 
also  be  the  individual  believer  that  is  intended  ;  for  the  col- 
lective church  and  the  individual  believer  are  on  the  same 
footing.  For  my  present  purpose  I  take  the  text  in  this 
latter  view,  and  hold  it  to  be  descriptive  of  the  Christian 
man,  continuing  steadfast  and  firm  in  his  faith  amid  many 


THE  FOUNDATION  OF  GOD.  221 

surrounding  instances  of  backsliding  and  apostasy.  He  is  a 
tower,  or  temple,  or  building  of  some  sort  standing  sure  ; 
being  the  foundation  of  God.  And  in  token  of  that  security 
he  is  sealed.  He  is  doubly  sealed  ;  sealed  on  both  sides. 
Like  a  column  standing  between  heaven  and  earth,  sealed 
on  either  side  so  that  it  cannot  be  moved ;  he  is  sealed 
both  heavenwards  and  earthwards.  Heavenward,  the  seal  has 
impressed  on  him  the  legend,  "  The  Lord  knoweth  them  that 
are  his."  Earthward,  the  writing  is  "  Let  every  one  that 
nameth  the  name  of  Christ  depart  from  iniquity." 

1.  "  The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his." 

By  "  the  Lord  "  I  understand  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  It 
was  an  early  usage  to  give  him  that  simple  title.  "  It  is  the 
Lord,"  says  John  to  Peter,  recognising  their  common  Master 
after  his  resurrection.  "  I  was  in  the  Spirit  on  the  Lord's 
day  j"  the  day  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  He  is  the  Lord.  This 
Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his. 

What  his  knowing  them  means  and  implies  may  be  best 
perhaps  brought  out  by  looking  at  some  of  the  marks  or  signs 
by  which  he  may  be  supposed  to  know  them,  the  grounds  of 
his  knowing  them  as  his  own.  These  are  of  two  sorts  : 
marks  or  signs  bearing  upon  his  interest  or  right  of  property 
in  them,  the  claim  which  he  has  uj^on  them  ;  and  marks  or 
signs  bearing  more  directly  on  their  interest  or  right  of  pro- 
perty in  him,  the  claim  which  he  graciously  acknowledges 
them  to  have  upon  him.  He  knows  them  as  his,  by  his 
ownership  of  them  ;  and  by  their  ownership  of  him. 

The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his  by  signs  or  marks 
or  tokens  bearing  on  his  interest  or  right  of  property  in  them, 
his  ownership  of  them. 

Thus,  he  knows  them  as  given  to  him  by  the  Father 
from  before  all  worlds,  in  the  everlasting  covenant.     To  this 


222  THE  FOUNDATION  OF  GOD. 

ground  of  his  knowledge  of  tliem  he  frequently  refers,  with 
deep  and  earnest  feeling.  "  All  that  the  Father  giveth  me 
shall  come  unto  me  ;  and  him  that  cometh  unto  me  I  will  in 
no  wise  cast  out."  So  he  speaks  in  the  view  of  prevailing 
unbelief  respecting  him.  Multitudes  may  reject  and  despise 
him.  But  not  one  of  those  given  to  him  by  the  Father  will 
refuse  to  come  to  him.  And  not  one  of  those  who  so  come 
to  him,  being  given  to  him  by  the  Father,  will  he  in  any  wise 
cast  out.  The  main  stress  of  his  intercessory  prayer  (John 
xvii.)  is  laid  on  this  consideration,  his  knowing  them  that  are 
his,  as  given  to  them  by  the  Father.  "  Father,  the  hour  is 
come  ;  glorify  thy  Son,  that  thy  Son  also  may  glorify  thee  : 
as  thou  hast  given  him  power  over  all  flesh,  that  he  should 
give  eternal  life  to  as  many  as  thou  hast  given  him."  "  I 
have  manifested  thy  name  unto  the  men  whom  thou  gavest 
nie."  "  I  pray  for  them  which  thou  hast  given  me  ;  for 
they  are  thine.  And  all  mine  are  thine."  "  Holy  Father, 
keep  through  thine  own  name  those  whom  thou  hast  given 
me."  "  Father,  I  will  that  they  also  whom  thou  hast  given 
me  be  with  me  where  I  am  "  (vers.  2,  6,  9-11,  24). 

The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his  as  redeemed  by 
him.  "  I  know  my  sheep."  "  I  lay  down  my  life  for  them  " 
(John  X.  14,  15).  This  ground  of  knowledge,  especially  in 
connection  with  the  former,  the  Lord  brings  forward  very 
touchingly  and  tenderly,  "  My  sheep  hear  my  voice,  and  I 
know  them  " — know  them  as  the  Good  Shepherd,  giving  my 
life  for  them, — "  and  they  follow  me  "  (vers.  28,  29).  By 
his  having  them,  every  one  of  them,  in  his  mind  and  in  his 
heart  as  he  hung  on  the  accursed  tree,  by  his  tasting  death  for 
every  one  of  them,  "  the  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his." 

He  knows  them  that  are  his,  not  merely  by  his 
Father's  giving  them  to  him,  and  his  own  work  for  them,  but 
by  the  Spirit's  work  in  them  also.     So  he  knows  them  when 


THE  FOUNDATION  OF  GOD.  223 

he  says  of  the  Spirit,  "  He  shall  glorify  me,  for  he  shall  take 
of  mine,  and  show  it  unto  you."  Otherwise  he  knows  them 
not,  for  "  if  any  man  have  not  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none 
of  his."  By  their  having  his  Spirit,  the  Spirit  testifying  of 
him,  the  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his.  He  knows  them 
as  sealed  for  his  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  renewed  after  his  like- 
ness, conformed  to  his  image,  receiving  the  adoption  of  sons, 
in  and  with  himself,  and  the  spirit  of  adoption,  whereby  in 
and  with  himself  they  cry,  Abba,  Father. 

These  groimds  of  knowledge,  these  proofs  and  tokens  of 
his  interest  and  right  of  property  in  them,  by  which  the  Lord 
knows  his  own,  are  surely  of  deep  import  to  you.  And  if,  as  to 
the  first  two,  you  may  allege  that  they  he  beyond  your  observa- 
tion and  your  consciousness,  you  cannot  say  that  of  the  last. 
True,  you  cannot  search  the  secret  counsels  of  heaven  to  find 
your  name  written  in  the  Lamb's  book  of  life  among  the 
countless  number  of  the  elect  given  to  him  by  the  Father 
from  before  all  worlds.  True  also,  you  cannot  hope  or  aspire 
to  behold  the  breastplate  of  the  great  High  Priest  at  the  altar 
of  atonement,  to  ascertain  if  yours  is  among  the  names  that 
are  written  there.  But  you  can  welcome  into  your  souls  the 
blessed  Spirit  as  he  comes  to  reveal  Christ  in  you,  to  form 
Christ  in  you  the  hope  of  glory.  You  may  beware  of  griev- 
ing or  vexing  him  when  he  becomes  an  inmate  and  indweller 
with  you.  You  may  stir  up  the  gift  that  is  in  you,  and  make 
full  proof  of  his  gracious  ministry,  when  he  moves  you  to 
embrace  the  Lord  Christ  as  freely  given  to  you  in  the  gospel, 
to  be  no  more  faithless,  but  believing,  to  grow  in  grace  and 
in  the  knowledge  of  him  whom  he  thus  dehghts  to  glorify. 
So,  in  the  simple  and  continued  exercise  of  a  child-like  appro- 
priating faith  in  Christ,  you  may  more  and  more  thoroughly 
attain,  every  one  of  you,  to  the  assurance  of  his  loving  you 
and  giving  himself  for   you.      And  recognising  in  all  this 


224  THE  FOUNDATION  OF  GOD. 

sovereign  electing  love,  as  the  only  possible  explanation 
of  what  is  so  marvellous  in  your  eyes, — that  such  an  one  as 
you  should  be  saved  in  such  a  way, — you  reach  the  fountain- 
head  of  this  whole  flood  of  grace,  and  repose  in  the  eternal 
purpose  of  the  Father  ordaining  to  glory  his  only-begotten  Son, 
and  for  that  end  ordaining  you  to  be  conformed  to  his  image, 
that  he  may  be  the  first-born  among  many  brethren.  Well 
therefore  may  you  be  exhorted  to  "  give  all  diligence  to  make 
your  calling  and  election  sure." 

The  other  class  of  marks  or  tokens  by  which  the  Lord 
knoweth  them  that  are  his,  those  bearing  upon  their  interest 
or  right  of  property  in  him,  do  unquestionably  come  within 
the  range  and  sphere  of  your  consciousness  and  experience. 
They  are,  in  fact,  in  the  main,  but  an  expansion,  or  unfolding, 
of  the  last  of  the  three  former  ones,  the  work  of  the  Spirit 
making  you  Christ's,  and  Clnist  yours,  and  keeping  you  ever- 
more in  this  blessed  unity. 

The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his,  by  the  need  they 
have  of  him.  "  They  that  be  whole  need  not  a  physician, 
but  they  that  are  sick"  (Mark  ii.  17).  "  I  am  poor  and  needy ; 
but  the  Lord  thinketh  upon  me."  He  knows  me  by  my  need 
of  him.  And  not  merely  generally  by  my  need  of  him  in 
common  with  all  the  lost ;  but  particularly  and  individually ; 
by  my  special  and  personal  need  of  him  at  every  moment  of 
my  life.  He  knows  me  by  my  own  individual  case,  my  own 
individual  experience,  as  needing  him.  So  he  knoweth  them 
that  are  his  separately ;  each  one  of  them  apart  from  all  the 
rest ;  according  to  each  one's  separate  need.  So  he  knew  the 
helpless  cripple  at  Bethesda,  as  needing  the  cure  to  be  brought 
to  him,  since  he  could  not  get  to  the  cure.  So  he  knew  the 
woman  of  Samaria  when  he  spoke  to  herwhat  was  so  thoroughly 
a  word  in  season  ;  a  word  at  once  awakening  her,  and  probmg 


THE  FOUNDATION  OF  GOD.  225 

her  conscience  to  the  quick,  that  the  living  and  cleansing 
water  might  be  the  more  welcome.  Each  one  apart  he  knows 
by  his  special  need  of  him,  as  if  it  were  that  need  that  he 
came  specially  to  meet. 

The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his  by  the  trust  they 
put  in  him.  "  The  Lord  is  good  ;  he  knoweth  tliem  that 
trust  in  him"  (N'ahum  i.  7).  So  he  knew  the  Syrophoenician 
woman,  who  was  so  importunate  with  him  on  behalf  of  her 
daughter  that  she  would  take  no  denial,  and  would  even  plead 
as  a  dog ;  claiming  no  right  to  the  children's  table,  but  only 
to  the  crumbs  that  fell  from  it.  He  knew  her  by  the  believ- 
ing importunity  that  would  not  let  him  go,  but,  in  spite 
of  seeming  rejection  and  reproach,  held  him  fast  until  he 
blessed  her.  "  0  woman,  great  is  thy  faith  ;  be  it  unto  thee 
even  as  thou  wilt."  So  he  knew  that  other  woman,  Avho  in  her 
extremity  could  but  venture  to  press  in  among  the  crowd, 
and  get  so  near  as  to  touch  the  hem  of  his  garment.  By  the 
trust  she  put  in  him  he  knew  her  as  his.  For  when,  at 
his  call,  the  woman,  fearing  and  trembling,  came  and  fell 
down  before  him,  and  told  him  all  the  truth,  he  said  unto 
her,  "  Daughter,  thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole  ;  go  in 
peace,  and  be  whole  of  thy  plague." 

The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his  by  the  love  they 
bear  to  him.  So  he  knew  the  woman  who  was  a  sinner,  and 
who,  hearing  of  his  sitting  at  meat  in  the  Pharisee's  house, 
brought  an  alabaster  box  of  ointment,  and  stood  at  his  feet 
behind  him,  weeping,  and  washed  his  feet  with  her  tears, 
wiping  them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head,  and  kissed  his  feet, 
and  anointed  them  with  the  ointment.  She  loveth,  is  his 
acknowledgment,  his  testimony.  She  loveth  me  much. 
And  I  may  not  disown  her  love.  For  she  loveth  me  much, 
as  receiving,  from  me  and  through  me  and  in  me,  much 
forgiveness.  By  the  love  she  bears  to  me,  on  that  account 
and  on  that  ground  I  know  her  as  one  that  is  mine. 


226  THE  FOUNDATION   OF  GOD. 

The  Lord  knoweth  tliem  that  are  liis  by  the  work  they 
do  for  him.  Be  that  work  ever  so  little ;  let  it  be  but  the 
giving  of  a  cup  of  cold  Avater  to  a  disciple  in  the  name  of  a 
disciple,  it  shall  in  no  wise  lose  its  reward.  He  knew  thus 
as  his  own  the  woman  who,  in  the  house  of  Simon  the  leper, 
poured  on  his  head  ointment  of  spikenard,  very  precious, 
when  he  vindicated  her  against  the  murmurs  of  the  gain- 
say ers  that  stood  by  :  "  She  hath  done  what  she  could.  She 
hath  wrought  a  good  work  on  me."  In  whatever  sphere,  he 
knows  them  that  are  his,  as  working  for  him  ;  as  his  fellow - 
workers.  As  the  Father  hath  sent  him  into  the  world,  even 
so  he  sendeth  them,  to  witness  and  to  work  for  him.  And 
he  says  to  every  one  of  them,  as  he  said  to  the  Asiatic 
churches,  "  I  know  thy  works,"  and  by  thy  works  I  know 
thee  as  mine.  When  thou  givest  a  cup  of  cold  water  to  a 
disciple  in  the  name  of  a  disciple  ;  when  thou  speakest  a 
word  in  season  to  him  that  is  weary ;  when  thou  visitest  the 
fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction ;  the  Lord  knows 
thee  as  his,  as  he  will  acknowledge  thee  in  the  day  when 
thou  shalt  hear  these  blessed  words,  "  Inasmuch  as  thou 
didst  it  to  the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  thou  didst  it  to 
me." 

The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his  by  their  suffering 
for  and  with  him.  He  suffers  along  with  them  ;  for  in 
all  their  affliction  he  is  afflicted.  When  they  go  forth 
unto  him  without  the  gate,  bearing  his  reproach  ;  when  they 
forsake  all  and  follow  him  ;  when  they  suffer  lo§s  for  his 
sake ;  when  they  endure  hardships  as  his  good  soldiers ;  when 
they  bear  the  common  ills  of  life  as  his  burden  ;  when  they 
are  well-nigh  fainting  under  the  heavy  load  ;  the  Lord  knows 
them  as  his.  By  their  tears  which  he  puts  into  his  bottle  ;  by 
the  wounds  and  scars  of  their  sore  strife  with  evil ;  by  their 
unutterable  groanings,  which  his  Spirit  turns  into  prayers, 
the  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his. 


THE  FOUNDATION  OF  GOD.  227 

The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his  as  waiting  for 
him.  He  knows  them  as  his  own,  when  in  answer  to  his 
announcement,  "Behold  I  come  quickly,"  he  hears  them 
murmuring,  "  Even  so  come,  Lord  Jesus."  He  knows  them 
as  his  own  by  their  loving  liis  appearing  and  longing  to  be 
with  him.  He  knows  them  as  his  own  when  he  sees  them, 
with  loins  girt  and  lamps  burning,  watching  for  his  advent. 
He  knows  them  as  his  own  when,  over  the  grave  of  freshly 
buried  love,  they  lift  the  eye  of  resignation  and  of  hope  as 
they  hear  the  gracious  words,  "  Thy  brother  shall  rise  again ;" 
and  when,  sorrowing  for  them  that  are  asleep,  they  yet  believe, 
and  are  comforted  in  believing,  that  "  as  Jesus  died  and  rose 
again,  even  so  them  also  that  sleep  in  Jesus  Avill  God  bring 
with  him." 

Now,  put  together  all  these  marks  by  which  the  Lord 
knoweth  them  that  are  his ;  their  being  the  Father's  gift 
to  him,  the  purchase  of  his  own  blood,  the  sharers  of  his 
holy  nature,  through  the  Spirit  that  dwelt  in  him  dwell- 
ing also  in  them ;  their  sore  need  of  him,  their  simple 
faith  in  him,  their  earnest  love  to  him,  their  working 
for  him,  suffering  w4th  him,  waiting  his  return ;  and  say 
■what  must  his  thus  knowing  them  mean  1  what  must  it  imply 
and  involve  1  Nay,  rather,  what  will  it  not  include  of  watch- 
ful care,  tender  pity,  unwearied  sympathy,  unbounded  benefi- 
cence and  liberality  and  bountifulness  1 

The  reply  had  better  be  left  to  every  man's  own  heart. 
Only  meditate  and  ponder  well  these  manifold  reasons  of  this 
wondrous  knowledge,  and  seek  to  enter  into  them  and  appre- 
hend them  experimentally,  with  personal  application  to  your- 
selves ;  grasp  them,  appropriate  them,  as  the  reasons  of  his 
knowing  you  as  his  own ;  and  the  fulness  of  the  blessing  of 
being  so  known  by  such  an  one  as  he  is  will  more  and  more 
make  itself  felt. 

In  particular,  as  regards  your  steadfastness  and  persever- 


228  THE  FOUXDATIOX  OF  GOD. 

ance,  amid  the  shaking  of  men's  faith  and  their  falling  away 
from  the  truth,  for  your  safe  preservation  from  backsliding, 
error,  and  apostasy,  be  ever  cleaving  to  Christ  as  thus  know- 
ing you ;  knowing  thee,  0  poor  trembling  soul,  silly, 
simple  sheep  as  thou  art ;  knowing  thee  individually  ;  call- 
ing thee  by  thy  name  :  acquainted  with  all  thy  ways  ;  and,  in 
spite  of  all  thy  frailties  and  all  thy  fears,  still  ever  owning 
thee  as  his.  He  knows  thee  as  his  own,  to  keep  thee  by  his 
mighty  power  through  faith  unto  salvation.  "  Whosoever 
toucheth  thee  toucheth  the  apple  of  his  eye."  He  knows 
thee  as  his  own,  to  make  all  things  work  together  for  thy 
good.  He  knows  thee  as  his  property.  Who  can  steal  or 
force  anything  from  him  ]  He  knows  thee  as  part  of  his  very 
self,  a  member  of  his  body,  and  who  can  dismember  him  1  He 
knows  thee  as  thus  his  own,  and  can  no  more  deny  thee  than 
he  can  deny  himself.  "  Can  a  woman  forget  her  sucking  child, 
that  she  should  not  have  compassion  on  the  son  of  her  womb  ? 
She  may  forget ;  yet  will  not  he  forget  thee  ;  he  hath  graven 
thee  on  the  palms  of  his  hands."  Thou  art  his,  and  he  knows 
thee  as  his.     Is  not  that  enough  for  thee  ? 

The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  really  his  ;  not  them  that 
only  appear  or  profess  to  be  his  ;  for  there  are  many  that  say 
to  him,  "  Lord,  Lord,"  to  whom  he  will  profess,  "  I  never 
knew  you  :  depart  from  me,  ye  that  work  iniquity."  But 
those  that  are  truly  his,  however  obscure  and  despised,  the 
Lord  knoweth.  The  world  may  not  know  them  ;  they  may 
scarcely  even  know  themselves  ;  but  the  Lord  knoweth  them, 
though  all  else  disown  them. 

II.  "  Let  every  one  that  nameth  the  name  of  Christ  depart 
from  iniquity." 

1.  ivaming  the  name  of  Christ  comes  before  departing 
from  iniquity.  This  is  the  evangelical  arrangement.  And 
it  is  the  only  one  that  can  meet  the  sinner's  case.     He  may 


THE  FOUNDATION  OF  GOD.  229 

not  think  so  naturally.  For  his  idea  of  departing  from  ini- 
quity is  one  that  he  can  realise  apart  from  Christ.  It  is  mere 
outward  reformation  ;  the  renouncing  of  some  old  customs 
and  old  companionships  ;  the  adoption  of  a  decent  mode  of 
life.  He  may  include  in  his  notion  a  little  more.  He  may 
admit  that  the  change  implies  some  relentings  and  regrets ; 
some  compunctious  visitations  and  feelings  ;  some  pangs  of 
remorse.  But  that  is  all.  And  if  that  were  all,  there  need 
be  no  reason  for  placing  the  naming  of  the  name  of  Christ 
first. 

But  to  you  who  know  what  departing  from  iniquity  really 
means  ;  to  you  who  are  in  earnest  about  departing  from  ini- 
quity ;  to  you  who  appreciate  somewhat  of  the  beauty  of 
holiness,  and  who  have  some  sense  and  experience  of  the 
power  of  indwelling  sin ;  to  you  who  have  truly  engaged  in 
the  task  of  grappling  with  corruption  at  its  source,  in  the 
inner  man,  and  aiming  to  be  holy,  as  God  is  holy ;  to  you  it 
must  surely  be  good  news  to  be  told  that  your  departing  from 
iniquity  is  not  in  any  sense  a  preliminary  to  your  naming  the 
name  of  Christ. 

K'o!  Your  naming  the  name  of  Christ  is  the  first  thinff 
Come,  then,  and  name  that  name  as  you  are ;  not  as  depart- 
ing from  iniquity  ;  but  as  utterly  unable  to  do  more  than  cry, 
"  0  wretched  man  that  I  am  !  who  shall  deliver  me  from  the 
body  of  this  death  1"  Come,  with  iniquity  still  cleaving  to 
you  ;  come  in  your  helplessness ;  come  as  you  are.  Do  not 
wait  till  you  can  say  or  think  that  j^ou  have  less  sin  to  be 
answered  for,  or  are  somehow  more  free  from  sin's  guilt  and 
pollution.  I  give  you  credit  for  a  desire  to  depart  from  all 
iniquity.  I  assume  your  earnestness  about  your  personal 
sanctification.  I  take  for  granted  that  you  care,  not  merely 
for  forgiveness  and  safety,  but  also,  and  still  more,  for  holi- 
ness ;  that  you  desire  not  merely  to  be  let  ofi"  from  punish- 


230  THE  FOUNDATION  OF  GOD. 

ment,  but  to  he  made  pure  and  loving  and  Godlike.  And  I 
regard  you  as  so  much  concerned  about  that  as  to  find  in  it 
a  difficulty  about  your  instantly  closing  with  the  gospel  offer, 
and  naming  the  name  of  Christ. 

You  have  somehow  the  idea  that  you  must  begin  at  least 
your  departing  from  iniquity  before  you  venture  on  the  liberty 
of  confidently  and  comfortably  naming  the  name  of  Christ. 
But  read  the  legend  aright.  Take  in  the  whole  fulness  of 
the  gospel  of  Christ.  Do  not  imagine  that  if  you  could  say 
or  feel  that  you  were  departing  from  iniquity,  you  would  have 
more  boldness  in  naming  the  name  of  Christ.  Do  not  wait 
for  that ;  it  is  waiting  till  the  stream  run  dry.  For  your 
departing  from  iniquity  must  be  at  the  source,  the  fountain, 
the  spring,  of  the  iniquity  that  is  in  you.  And  that  is 
your  departure  from  the  living  God.  Your  first  step,  there- 
fore, in  departing  from  iniquity  must  be  a  return  from 
your  departure  from  the  living  God.  It  must  be  your 
reconciliation  to  him,  your  being  brought  nigh  unto  him, 
through  your  naming  the  name  of  Christ.  Is  not  this  a 
blessed  reading  of  the  seal  on  the  earthward,  sinward  side ; 
the  side  of  the  sin-stricken  soul  1 

Thou  tempest-tossed  struggler  with  the  horrid  sea  of  out- 
ward and  inward  iniquity ;  thou  who  art  hesitating  and 
hanging  back,  as  if  it  would  be  presumption  in  thee  to  name 
the  name  of  Christ  till  thou  hadst  made  some  head  against 
the  stream ;  come  and  read  this  legend.  First  name  the 
name  of  Christ.  Name  that  name  now.  !N"ame  it,  plead  it, 
before  and  in  order  to  your  departing  from  iniquity.  Name 
it  as  you  are  ;  Jesus  j  so  called  because  he  "  saves  his  people 
from  their  sins." 

2.  Naming  the  name  of  Christ  is  to  be  followed  by 
departing  from  iniquity  :  and  that  not  only  in  the  form 
of  a  natural  and  necessary  consequence  to  be  anticipated, 


THE  FOUNDATION  OF  GOD.  231 

but  in  that  of  obedience  to  a  peremptory  command.  It 
is  not  said,  He  that  nameth  the  name  of  Christ  may  be 
expected,  or  will  be  inclined,  or  must  be  moved  by  a 
divine  impulse,  to  depart  from  iniquity.  But  it  is  ex- 
pressly put,  as  an  authoritative  and  urgent  precept.  "Let 
him  that  nameth  the  name  of  Christ  depart  from  ini- 
quity." 

Here  also  we  see  the  grace  of  the  gospel.  It  is  indeed 
true,  that  naming  the  name  of  Christ,  believing  on  him, 
looking  to  him,  embracing  him,  does  naturally  and  necessarily 
lead  to  departing  from  iniquity ;  that  the  two  things  are  in- 
separable ;  that  faith  in  Jesus  carries  in  it  the  principle  of 
perfect  purity  as  well  as  peace.  And  it  is  good  to  tell  the 
anxious  soul,  the  soul  anxious,  not  for  safety  merely,  but 
for  holiness,  that  his  naming  the  name  of  Christ  now,  and 
just  as  he  is,  will  assuredly  be  his  best  and  only  means  of 
departing  from  iniquity.  But  it  may  be  well  to  prepare  him 
for  a  possible  disappointment ;  at  least  in  the  first  outset  of 
his  Christian  experience. 

Ah  !  when  I  first  cast  my  eye  on  the  cross  of  Christ,  and 
venture  to  name  his  name ;  when,  the  Spirit  of  grace  and 
supplication  being  poured  upon  me,  I  look  on  him  whom  I 
have  pierced,  and,  trembling,  regard  him  as  pierced  for  me ; 
when  I  see  him  bearing  my  sin,  and  bearing  it  all  away ; 
when  I  gaze  on  his  agony,  and  apprehend  my  share  in  its 
cause  and  in  its  fruit ;  I  feel  as  if  I  could  never  any  more 
have  any  taste  for  the  accursed  thing  which  crucified  my 
Lord ;  as  if  nothing  could  ever  tempt  me  to  traffic  with  the 
vice  or  the  vanity  of  the  world  which  rejected  him ;  as  if 
spontaneously,  and  by  the  mere  force  of  the  emotions  that 
now  fill  my  soul,  I  must  without  efi"ort,  and  without  purpose 
almost,  be  led  on  in  the  way  of  abhorrence  of  all  that  is  evil, 
and  love  of  all  that  is  holy  and  good.     Alas  !  alas  !     Too 


232  THE  FOUNDATION  OF  GOD. 

soon  I  find  that  the  old  man  is  too  powerful  for  the  new ; 
that  it  is  an  upward  walk  I  have  to  tread ;  that  I  have  to 
make  head  against  a  strong  current,  apt  to  become  a  sweep- 
ing torrent.  Departing  from  iniquity,  in  the  sense  in  which 
I  now  understand  and  care  for  that  attainment,  does  not  come 
so  spontaneously  as  I  had  expected,  out  of  naming  the  name 
of  Christ.  Growth  in  holiness  is,  I  begin  to  find,  no  play 
or  pastime  of  a  summer  day.  The  purifying  of  the  heart 
through  faith  is  no  process  of  mere  unconscious  pro- 
gress. 

Surely  it  is  a  relief  and  comfort  to  me,  in  such  circum- 
stances, to  know  that  it  never  was  meant  to  be  so.  It  is 
good  for  me  to  have  the  process  of  my  personal  sanctification 
put  upon  the  footing,  not  of  a  corollary  or  consequence,  in  the 
nature  of  things,  from  my  believing  in  Christ  for  the  saving 
of  my  soul,  but  of  a  business  with  which  I  have  to  concern 
myself,  as  if  it  were  all  in  my  hands ;  my  life  business,  in 
short ;  that  I  am  not  to  wait  passively  and  quietly  as  if  the 
work  would  go  on  without  my  co-operation,  and  almost  with- 
out my  consciousness ;  that,  in  a  word,  I  have  to  work  out 
my  own  salvation. 

3.  Naming  the  name  of  Christ  and  departing  from 
iniquity  thus  go  together.  They  are  not  really  twain,  but 
one.  There  is  not  first  a  naming  of  the  name  of  Christ,  as 
if  it  were  an  act  or  a  transaction  to  be  completed  at  once, 
and  so  disposed  of  and  set  aside  ;  and  then  thereafter  a 
departing  from  iniquity,  as  its  fitting  consequence  and  com- 
manded sequel.  The  two  things  cannot  be  thus  separated. 
For,  in  truth,  naming  the  name  of  Christ  involves  depart- 
ing from  iniquity ;  and  departing  from  iniquity  is  possible 
only  by  naming  the  name  of  Christ.  The  one  cannot  be 
without  the  other.  In  the  very  first  instant  of  your  naming 
the  name  of  Christ  there  is  dejjarting  from  iniquity.     And 


THE  FOUNDATION  OF  GOD.  233 

ever  afterwards  your  continued  departing  from  iniquity  is 
simply  a  continued  naming  of  the  name  of  Christ.  The 
connection  is  close  and  indissoluble  ;  every  earnest  and  grow- 
ing Christian  feels  it  to  be  so. 

Call  to  mind  the  past ;  your  first  naming  the  name  of 
Christ  with  anything  like  realising  and  appropriating  faith, — 
your  first  looking  to  him  and  embracing  him  as  not  only  the 
Saviour  of  sinners,  but  your  own  Saviour,  loving  you  and 
giving  himself  for  you.  Was  there  not,  then,  in  that  simple 
act  or  exercise  of  faith,  a  departing  from  iniquity]  You 
turned  your  back  on  sin  when  you  turned  your  face  to  the 
cross.  Or  rather,  you  turned  your  face  to  sin  as  seen  in  the 
cross ;  and  as  it  crucified  Christ,  it  crucified  you  :  so  that, 
in  your  very  naming  the  name  of  Christ  at  first,  there  was  a 
departing  from  iniquity. 

And  consider  the  present.  What  is  your  experience  now 
if  you  are  really  in  earnest  in  the  work  of  your  personal  and 
progressive  sanctification  1  How  do  you  deal  with  any  sin 
besetting  joul  How,  and  how  only,  can  you  deal  with  it 
hopefully  and  successfully  1  Is  it  by  grappling  with  it 
directly  ?  Is  it  by  meeting  it  face  to  face  in  a  hand-to-hand 
encounter  ]  Is  it  not  rather  always  by  naming  the  name  of 
Christ  1  by  looking  to  him,  as  at  the  first  1  looking  to  him  as 
bearing  that  very  sin  ]  looking  to  him  as,  in  the  bearing  of 
that  sin,  loving  you  and  giving  himself  for  you  ? 

Did  not  Paul  experimentally  prove  this  to  be  the  rule 
and  law  of  his  deliverance  from  evil,  and  his  consequent 
progress  in  holiness,  when,  under  the  sore,  sad  pressure  of 
indwelling  corruption,  he  said  first,  "  0  wretched  man  that  I 
am  !  who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this  death?" 
and  then,  "I  thank  God  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord." 
With  him  there  was  no  departing  from  iniquity  excepting 
only  in  the  naming  of  the  name  of  Christ.     It  was  always 


234  THE  FOUNDATION  OF  GOD. 

with  him  a  naming  of  that  name.  So  let  it  be  with  you. 
Let  it  be  as  naming  the  name  of  Christ  that  you  seek  to 
depart  from  iniquity.  Deal  not  so  much  with  the  iniquity 
from  which  you  would  depart,  rather  look  upon  it  as  dealt 
with  and  disposed  of  by  Christ.  Deal  with  Christ.  Name 
his  name.  Cleave  to  him.  Abide  in  him.  So  shall  your 
holiness  be  not  a  negative  but  a  positive  attainment,  and 
your  departing  from  iniquity  real  and  sure  when  thus  it  is 
an  earnest  naming  of  the  name  of  Christ. 


STKANGERS   AND   PILGRIMS.  235 


XIV. 

STEANGEES  A:N"D  PILGEIMS. 

*'  These  .  .  .  confessed  that  they  were  strangers  and  pilgrims  on  the 
earth. " — Hebrews  xi.  13. 

This  is  a  confession  which  all  the  patriarchs  made  ;  if  not  in 
words,  more  emphatically  in  deeds.  We  find  it  expressly 
made  on  five  occasions  in  the  Old  Testament.  The  five, 
however,  may  be  classified  under  two  heads. 

Under  the  first  head  there  are  two ;  historical,  and  as  it 
were,  doctrinal.  1.  Abraham  uses  this  language,  in  conferring 
with  the  sons  of  Heth  about  the  burial  of  Sarah,  *'  I  am  a 
stranger  and  a  sojourner  with  you  ;  give  me  a  possession  of  a 
burying-place  with  you,  that  I  may  bury  my  dead  out  of  my 
sight"  (Gen.  xxiii.  4),  2.  The  Lord  himself  uses  it  in  speak- 
ing of  the  tenure  in  which  Israel  held  the  land  of  promise, 
"  The  land  shall  not  be  sold  for  ever  ;  for  the  land  is  mine  ; 
for  ye  are  strangers  and  sojourners  with  me"  (Lev.  xxv. 
23). 

Under  the  second  head  there  are  three  instances,  more 
devotional  and  practical.  David  uses  the  expression  ;  1.  As 
bearing  on  liberal  giving  to  the  Lord, — "  "Who  am  I,  and 
what  is  my  people,  that  we  should  be  able  to  offer  so  will- 
ingly after  this  sort  ]  For  all  things  come  of  thee ;  and  of 
thine  own  have  we  given  thee  :  for  we  are  strangers  before 
thee,  and  sojourners,  as  were  all  our  fathers.  Our  days  on 
earth  are  as  a  shadow,  and  there  is  no  abiding"  (1  Chron. 
xxix.  14,  15)  j  2.  As  bearing  on  the  tears  which  a  sense  of 


236  STRANGEES   AND   PILGRIMS. 

the  world's  vanity  and  sin  causes  to  flow,  "  Hear  my  prayer, 
0  Lord,  and  give  ear  unto  my  cry.  Hold  not  thy  peace  at 
my  tears.  For  I  am  a  stranger  with  thee,  and  a  sojourner, 
as  all  my  fathers  were"  (Ps.  xxxix.  12);  3.  As  bearing  on 
spiritual  longing  for  the  knowledge  of  God  and  his  command- 
ments, "  I  am  a  stranger  in  the  earth.  Hide  not  thy  com- 
mandments from  me"  (Ps.  cxix.  19). 

I.  The  first  two  instances  of  this  confession  occur  in  his- 
torical narratives,  and  may  be  considered  by  themselves. 

1.  Abraham  says  to  the  sons  of  Heth :  "  I  am  a 
stranger  and  a  sojourner  with  you  ;  give  me  a  posses- 
sion of  a  burying-place  with  you,  that  I  may  bury  my 
dead  out  of  my  sight"  (Gen.  xxiii.  4).  I  do  not  dwell  upon 
this  most  interesting  and  pathetic  picture.  The  bereaved  old 
man  coming  out  from  his  lonely  chamber,  to  face,  as  he 
expects,  an  unsympathising  group  of  strangers  ;  the  sudden 
surprise  of  finding  them  to  be  kind  and  pitying  friends  ;  the 
grand  and  stately  interchange  of  compliments  ;  the  generous 
offer  j  the  courteous  declinature  ;  the  grace  of  the  final  treaty 
of  love,  rather  than  of  business  ;  all  so  original  in  its  character, 
and  so  deeply  natural  too  ;  might  tempt  one  to  enlarge.  I 
rather  proceed,  however,  at  once  to  make  some  practical  use 
of  the  appeal,  "  I  am  a  stranger  and  a  sojourner  with  you." 

You  are  alone,  and  would  fain  be  let  alone,  in  your 
grief  You  care  not  for  companionship  ;  you  shrink  from  it. 
"  Leave  me  to  myself,"  may  be  your  instinctive  cry.  "  Only 
give  me  liberty  in  quietness  to  bury  my  dead.  Earth  may 
have  many  things  attractive  to  you  :  for  me,  it  can  furnish  only 
one  thing  I  care  for ;  a  grave  for  my  dead."  This  may  be  a 
morbid  frame  ;  and  it  may  have  a  fascination  for  the  mourner ; 
and  such  a  fascination  as  is  apt  to  grow.  It  may  become  the 
luxury  of  woe ;  and,  like  all  luxury,  it  will  enervate  and 
enslave.      It  is  to  be  resisted  in  its  beginning.     For  it  has 


STEANGEES  AND   PILGEIMS.  237 

no  truth  in  it,  no  charity,  no  faith.  Are  you  to  bid  all  the 
world  stand  still,  or  stand  aside,  that  you  may  bury  your  dead  1 
Thronged  as  it  is  with  men  and  women,  as  sensitive  as  you 
can  be  to  all  its  pains ;  and  having  tenfold  more  of  its  pains 
to  bear,  is  it  a  world  from  which  you  may  seclude  yourself 
as  if  in  the  shelter  of  some  solitary  cell,  to  muse  and  mourn 
alone  ]  No,  brother  !  whatever  may  be  your  grief ;  say  not  in 
any  such  spirit  to  your  fellows,  I  am  a  stranger.  Learn  a 
better  lesson.  You  may  feel,  when  the  desire  of  your  eyes  is 
taken  away,  as  if  you  had  nothing  left  on  earth  to  live  for, 
save  only  the  burying  of  your  dead.  But  it  is  not  so.  As  a 
lover  of  men,  you  have  much  to  live  for ;  to  do  good  as  you 
have  opportunity.  As  a  lover  of  Christ,  you  have  more  ;  for 
to  you  to  live  is  Christ. 

In  this  spirit,  you  may  well  and  warrantably  use  the 
language  of  the  Patriarch ;  with  fullest  fellowship  and 
sympathy,  "Have  pity  upon  me,  0  my  friends!"  "You 
may  have  been  wont  to  regard  me  simply  as  a  stranger; 
separated  from  you  ;  moving  in  a  different  sphere,  and  follow- 
ing different  ways.  You  may  have  seen  perhajDs,  with  some 
not  unnatural  grudge,  my  prosperous  state  ;  thinlving  it  hard 
that  such  an  uninvited  intruder  into  your  country  should 
possess  such  wealth  in  flocks  and  herds  :  or  the  simple  wor- 
ship of  my  household  may  have  provoked  your  indignation 
or  contempt.  I  was  not  one  of  you.  You  saw  me  as  a 
stranger  ;  as  one  whom  you  did  not  understand,  and  could 
not  altogether  like.  But  see  me  now,  a  stricken  mourner, 
a  desolate  old  man,  fain  to  come  to  you  and  ask  from  you  a 
grave  in  which  to  bury  my  dead."  There  is  that  in  sorrow 
which  makes  men  kind ;  which  makes  them  kin.  How 
precious,  in  this  view,  may  a  season  of  distress  be  to  one 
labouring  among  his  neighbours  on  behalf  of  Christ !  You 
hear  of  distress  in  some  home  within  your  beat ;  a  sick  child, 
a  dying  spouse,  a  mourning  Eachel,  a  weeping  Mary,  an  old 


238  STKANGEES   AND   PILGKIMS. 

man  seeking  a  grave  for  his  dead.  You  hasten  your  visit 
now  ;  praying  for  and  looking  for  a  door  of  entrance,  through 
softened  broken  hearts ;  hearts  shut  closely  hitherto.  Or, 
you  have  yourself  been  called  to  mourn  and  weep.  You  go 
your  customary  rounds,  with  furrows  in  your  cheeks,  and 
traces  of  tears  in  your  eye  ;  telling,  too  sadly,  of  your  caring 
for  nothing  but  a  grave  to  bury  j'our  dead.  Your  very 
grief  wins  for  you  a  kindly  response.  Your  faltering  voice 
goes  home  as  never  loudest  warning  did  before.  These 
sympathisers  feel  that  you  are  as  they  are.  They  will  listen 
to  you  when  you  speak  of  something  else  than  the  burying  of 
your  dead  ;  and  something  better  for  them.  What  is  it  to  be  1 
""  I  am  a  stranger  and  a  sojourner  with  you."  So  says 
the  bereaved  old  man,  "  I  am  content  to  be  so.  I  can 
wander  up  and  down  without  a  resting-place.  The  dead 
alone  need  a  resting-place.  Give  me  a  grave  for  my  dead. 
And  you,  whose  guest  I  am,  with  whom  as  a  stranger  I  am, 
and  a  sojourner,  who  seem  to  hold  the  country  by  a  surer 
tenure  than  mine, — wherein  are  you  better  than  11  I  need 
but  a  grave  to  bury  my  dead  !  And  wliat,  after  all,  is  your 
need  1  Death  enters  your  palace,  as  it  enters  my  hut.  AVhat 
is  there  then  between  us  1  What  can  either  of  us  speak 
about  or  think  about,  but  only  the  grave  in  which  we  are  to 
bury  our  dead  1  Surely  this  makes  us  one.  I  may  be 
apparently  more  of  a  stranger  on  the  earth  than  you ;  my 
possessions  less  secure  than  yours ;  my  fragile  remnant  of 
life  more  like  a  pilgrimage  than  your  robust  health.  But, 
brother,  when  you  and  I  come  to  talk  together  of  a  place  to 
bury  our  dead,  we  are  strangers  to  one  another  no  more ;  we 
are  sojourners  with  one  another  no  more.  We  are  strangers 
and  sojourners  alike  in  a  land  that  is  not  ours,  but  the  Lord's. 
And  we  look  for  a  better  country,  where  we  may  be  all  at 
home  together  with  the  Lord.  Together,  therefore,  let  us 
leave  the  earth  to  our  buried  dead.     And  for  what  remains 


STRANGEKS   AND   PILGRIMS.  239 

of  our  wandering  here,  let  us  together  set  our  faces  to  seek  a 
heritage  where  none  of  us  shall  be  strangers  or  sojourners 
any  more  ;  where  the  risen  dead  and  the  living  changed 
shall  be  for  ever  with  the  Lord,  in  liis  everlasting  kingdom 
and  glory." 

2.  The  Lord  says  to  Israel  "The  land  is  mine;  for 
ye  are  strangers  and  sojourners  with  me"  (Lev.  xxv.  23). 
This  may  be  regarded  almost  as  a  kind  of  rejoinder  to 
the  pathetic  appeal  which  we  have  heard  Abraham  makin^ 
to  the  sons  of  Heth.  The  land  is  here  represented  as 
having  already  passed  into  the  hands  of  Israel :  as  beino- 
in  fact  already  as  good  as  conquered.  Abraham,  in  his 
natural  seed  or  posterity,  is  now  occupying  its  borders. 
Imagine,  in  that  view,  the  words  to  be  spoken  to  him 
personally.  "Thou  art  here  again,  after  a  long  interval, 
in  the  land  where  thou  wast  once  a  wanderer ;  but  now  a 
wanderer  no  more ;  a  settled  owner  and  proprietor ;  lord  of 
all  the  soil ;  monarch  of  all  thou  canst  survey.  Then  thou 
wast  a  stranger  in  it ;  now  thou  art  at  home.  Is  it  really 
so?  Art  thou  not  a  stranger  still?  Then  thou  wast  a 
stranger  and  sojourner  with  the  sons  of  Heth.  ISTow  thou 
art  a  stranger  and  sojourner  with  me.  Then  thou  didst 
acknowledge  them  to  be  thy  hosts,  and  thyself  to  be  their 
guest.  IS^w  thou  art  to  feel  that  I  am  thy  host,  and  thou 
art  my  guest.  For  the  land  is  mine.  Thou  sojournest 
with  me." 

There  is  comfort  in  this  thought  appHed  retrospectively. 
Thou  didst  indeed  then  succeed  in  purchasing  a  few  feet  of 
ground,  that  thou  mightest  bury  thy  dead  in  no  borrowed 
tomb,  but  in  a  sepulchre  thou  hadst  by  purchase  made  thine 
own.  But,  after  all,  it  was  in  a  land  possessed  by  alien  tribes, 
a  land  of  strangers.  Is  it  not  a  satisfaction,  a  solace,  to 
reflect  now  that  it  was  in  a  land  which  is  the  Lord's  ?  This 
comfort  may  be  yours,  believer.    You  too  bury  your  dead  in 


240  STRANGERS   AND    PILGRIMS. 

a  land  that  is  the  Lord's.  And  the  land  is  the  wide  earth  ; 
for  the  earth  is  the  Lord's.  Whenever  you  have  to  bury 
your  dead,  it  is  in  a  land  of  which  the  Lord  says,  It  is  mine. 
To  leave  loved  remains  on  a  foreign  strand,  slowly  and  sadly 
to  lay  down  the  brave  where  the  foe  is  sullenly  firing  ;  to  lose 
the  weary  adventurer  in  the  wild  jungle,  abandoned  to  his 
fate  among  its  beasts  of  prey ;  to  cast  with  measured  plunge 
into  the  deep  sea  the  cold  form  which  you  prize  above  all 
its  treasures  :  ah  !  what  a  hard  sore  trial  of  love  and  faith. 
But  courage.  "  The  earth  is  the  Lord's,  and  the  fulness  there- 
of!" The  fulness  thereof!  It  is  filled  with  many  things 
rich  and  rare.  Among  the  rest  it  is  filled  with  your  buried 
dead.  "  The  land  is  mine."  The  earth  is  mine,  and  its  fulness  ; 
the  fulness  of  all  the  precious  dust  of  all  my  saints ;  their 
bodies  so  dear  to  me  that  I  must  needs  see  to  their  being 
kept  in  a  land  which  is  my  own  ;  until  I  come  to  bring  them 
from  their  resting-places,  clothed  with  life  and  glory  and 
beauty  immortal,  to  carry  them  with  me  to  a  better,  a 
heavenly  home. 

There  is  admonition  also  in  the  thought.  "  The  land  is 
mine ;"  the  land  in  which  you  have  left  your  buried  dead  ! 
Yes ;  the  land  is  his.  You  are  sojourners  in  it  with  him. 
He  lodges  and  entertains  you.  And  he  does  so  in  so  liberal 
a  spirit,  and  on  so  bountiful  a  scale,  that  you  need  to  be  con- 
tinually reminded  of  his  proprietorship  and  your  dependence  ; 
and  to  hear  him  saying  The  land  is  mine. 

If  you  were  hospitably  received  in  some  great  and  good 
man's  house,  seated  at  his  table,  and  allowed  the  full  range 
of  his  wide  domains,  you  would  not  think  of  taking  liberties  as 
if  all  were  your  own.  You  would  not  injure  his  goodly 
furniture,  or  waste  his  costly  viands.  You  would  not  lounge 
too  familiarly  in  his  ample  haUs,  or  partake  to  excess  of  the 
luxuries  of  his  table.  You  would  be  on  your  guard,  lest  you 
should  abuse  his  hospitality.    You  would  beware  of  encroach- 


STEANGEES   AND  PILGEIMS.  241 

ing  on  his  condescension.  And  you  would  pay  him  the 
decent  compliment  of  showing  how  much  you  valued  him 
and  his  company  above  all  his  goodly  fare.  Then  again 
you  would  be  careful  not  to  set  your  heart  too  much  upon 
your  temporary  residence,  and  its  temporary  entertainment. 
You  would  moderate  your  taste  for  the  enjoyments  and  in- 
dulgences which  are  yours  only  for  a  brief  and  uncertain 
time ;  allowed  to  you  by  him  whose  guest  you  are.  And 
you  would  not  think  of  giving  away  to  foolish  friends  the 
goods  stored  up  in  his  cellars  ;  or  cutting  down  the  timber  of 
his  woods  for  your  own  pleasure  or  aggrandisement. 

This  figure  or  parable  may  explain  and  enforce  the  right 
and  safe  way  of  using  this  world  without  abusing  it.  Let 
it  be  used  under  the  constant  pressure  of  the  apostle's  warn- 
ing that  the  fashion  of  tliis  world  passes  away,  and  also  with 
a  continual,  realising  sense  of  the  Lord's  appeal  :  "  The  world, 
the  land,  is  mine  ;  for  ye  are  strangers  and  sojourners  with 
me."  Let  that  view  of  your  position  be  thoroughly  appre- 
hended. It  will  at  once  determine  the  attitude  you  are  to 
assume  in  the  world. 

As  the  Lord's  guests  you  cannot  be  indifferent  or  stand 
neutral  in  the  great  strife  that  is  going  on  in  the  land  of 
which  he  says,  It  is  mine.  You  must  take  a  side.  Nor 
can  there  be  room  for  doubt  what  the  side  is  to  be.  The 
buried  bones  of  your  pious  dead,  whose  graves  are  all  over 
the  field  of  battle,  forbid  all  hesitancy  or  indecision,  all 
cowardice  or  compromise.  The  earth  is  indeed  the  Lord's. 
And  it  is  ere  long  to  be  triumphantly  vindicated  and  glori- 
ously occupied  as  his.  But  meanwhile  it  is  the  Lord's,  as  a 
kind  of  debateable  territory,  every  inch  of  which  has  to  be 
fought  for,  to  be  won  and  kept  as  it  were,  by  force  of  arms ; 
like  the  parcel  of  ground  which  Jacob  bought,  but  which, 
nevertheless,  his  sons  had  to  conquer  by  their  swords  and 
their  bows.     And  it  has  in  its  bosom  a  countless  multitude 

R 


242  STRANGERS   AND   PILGRIMS. 

of  redeemed  bodies,  belonging  to  redeemed  souls ;  bodies 
now  vile  perhaps,  but  destined  to  be  conformed  to  the  Lord's 
own  glorious  body.  You  cannot  be  idle  while  the  battle  is 
raging  that  is  to  end  in  such  a  victory. 

Two  things  in  particular  you  must  have  much  at  heart. 
The  first  is  to  break  every  tie  that  ever  bound  you,  or  could 
bind  you,  to  the  usurper's  service  ;  the  service  of  the  prince 
of  this  world.  As  sojourners  with  the  rightful  owner  and 
Lord,  you  can  have  no  dealings  with  him  who  rules  only 
by  force  and  by  fraud.  You  need  have  none,  for  his  power 
is  broken  and  his  lie  exposed.  He  has  nothing  in  you, 
either  as  an  accuser  or  as  a  tyrant.  You  are  not  at  his 
mercy,  as  if,  being  guilty,  you  needed  to  propitiate  him. 
Your  guilt  is  purged.  There  is  now  to  you  no  condemnation  ; 
to  you  who  are  in  Christ,  who  answers  for  you  in  the  judgment. 
You  cannot  now  be  brought  under  Satan's  bondage ;  for 
greater  is  he  that  is  for  you  than  all  they  that  can  be  against 
you.  You  cannot  now  be  blindfolded  by  the  great  deceiver. 
You  know  the  truth,  and  the  truth  makes  you  free.  Surely 
now  you  will  not  betray  your  host  with  whom  you  dwell,  by 
shrinking  from  knowing  his  name  and  defending  his  cause, 
or  by  keeping  up  a  treacherous  correspondence  -with  the 
enemy. 

Eather,  secondly,  knowing  his  mind  and  heart,  seeing  how 
intensely  he  longs  to  clasp  to  his  bosom,  and  welcome  into 
his  home,  and  entertain  as  his  guests,  each  and  all  of  those 
fighting  in  the  rebel  host,  will  you  not  be  ever  appealing  to 
every  one  of  them  whom  you  meet  with,  every  stranger  wan- 
dering afar  off,  every  unwary  youth  enlisting  himself  as  a 
recruit?  Will  you  not  affectionately  plead  and  remon- 
strate 1  Will  you  not  reason  with  them  thus  ? — "  War  to 
the  knife  there  must  be  between  him  who  says,  'The  land 
is  mine,'  and  the  usurping  prince  ;  a  war,  in  the  end,  of  utter 
extermination.     The  rebel  cities  are  doomed  to  be  destroyed, 


STIUNGERS  AND  PILGWMS.  243 

and  all  who  are  found  in  them  must  perish.  As  strangers 
and  sojourners  with  God,  we  cannot  but  be  loyal  to  him,  and 
sympathising  with  him  in  his  righteous  purpose  of  avenging 
judgment ;  but  in  faithfulness  and  love  to  him  and  to  you, 
we  beseech  you,  in  bis  name  and  on  his  behalf,  not  finally 
to  commit  yourselves.  Come  ye  weary  and  heavy  laden.  Make 
trial  of  the  hospitality  we  have  by  experience  found  to  be 
so  safe  and  so  blessed.  We  were  once  as  you  are  now ; 
enemies  to  him  with  whom  now  we  are  sojourners.  There 
was  room  enough  in  the  inn  for  us.  There  is  room  enough, 
for  you.  There  was  no  one  with  whom  the  Son  could  be  a 
sojourner  when  he  was  here.  There  was  no  room  in  the  inn 
for  him.  He  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head.  But  he  him- 
self tells  us  now  that  there  is  room, — he  has  made  room, — 
in  the  inn  for  all  of  us.  There  is  room  for  all  of  us  in  the 
tent  pitched  for  our  temporary  shelter  on  the  earth  now ; 
room  for  all  of  us  in  the  abiding  dwelling-place  awaiting  us 
in  heaven  hereafter ;  room  for  all  of  us  in  the  heart  and 
home  of  the  everlasting  Father." 

II.  The  three  other  instances  of  this  confession  of  the 
text  occur  in  devotional  exercises,  and  they  may  be  made  to 
fit  into  one  another. 

1.  "We  are  strangers  before  thee  and  sojourners,  as  were 
all  our  fathers"  (1  Chron.  xxix.  15). 

Here  the  thought  "we  are  strangers  before  thee  and 
sojourners,"  is  brought  in  to  heighten  and  entrance  the  ad- 
miring and  grateful  joy  with  which  David  contemplates  the 
amazing  goodness  of  God,  in  permittmg  him  and  his  people 
to  do  so  much,  to  do  anything,  for  the  building  of  his  house, 
for  the  glory  of  his  name.  A^Hiat  grace,  what  condescension, 
is  there  in  this  !  The  proprietor  and  Lord  of  all  things 
enables  and  inclines  us  who  are  his  guests,  sojourning  with 
him  in  the  land   that  is  his  own,  to  offer  as  our  gift  what 


244  STRANGERS  AND  PILGRIMS. 

already,  as  his  property,  belongs  to  Mm  alone  ;  and  most 
generously  consents  to  accept  tlie  offering  !  It  is  as  if,  while 
entertained  by  an  open-hearted  and  open-handed  landlord, 
owner  of  large  domains,  I  were  to  take  it  into  my  fond  and 
foolish  conceit  to  -approach  him  with  some  of  the  dainties  of 
his  own  sumptuous  board,  or  the  ornamental  furniture  of  his 
own  sj^lendid  apartment,  or  the  varied  produce  of  his  own 
garden  and  cultured  grounds,  gravely  begging  him  to 
receive  at  my  hands  what  I  bring  as  an  acknowledgment  on 
my  part  of  his  bountiful  hospitality.  How  preposterous  a 
procedure  !  one  would  be  apt  to  say,  and  how  utterly  un- 
reasonable, in  such  a  case,  to  take  credit  to  myself,  or  imagine 
that  I  am  profiting  or  obhging  him  !  Does  he  not  oblige 
me,  and  that  most  signally,  when  he  entertains  me  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  make  a  transaction  of  that  sort  possible,  without 
its  provoking  indignation  for  its  presumption,  or  ridicule  for 
its  folly  1  For,  in  order  to  any  such  procedure,  I  must  be  a 
sojourner  with  my  host,  on  a  very  peculiar  footing,  and  after 
a  very  peculiar  fashion.  And  so  we  are,  as  sojourners  with 
the  Lord.  "The  heaven,  even  the  heavens  are  the  Lord's, 
but  the  earth  hath  he  given  to  the  children  of  men "  (Ps. 
cxv.  16).  The  land  is  his,  and  we  are  sojourners  with 
him  in  it.  But  he  so  gives  it  to  us,  as  to  make  us  to  feel 
that  we  have  a  right  to  regard  it  and  use  it  freely  as 
ours. 

Living  without  God  in  the  world,  we  are  intruders,  with- 
out any  vahd  title  to  be  where  we  are  or  to  enjoy  what  we 
enjoy.  Our  place  and  our  portion  should  be  elsewhere.  We 
are  here  by  sufferance  merely,  tolerated  by  the  Lord  in  the 
exercise  of  long-suffering  for  a  season ;  but  not  really  wel- 
come, acceptable,  cherished  guests  and  sojourners  with  him ; 
any  more  than  were  the  Amorites  of  old,  whom  the  land 
vomited  out  in  the  fulness  of  their  iniquity.  But  believing, 
and  becoming  the  true  people  and  children  of  the  Lord,  we 


STRANGEES  AND  PILGEIMS.  245 

have  the  earth  given  us  to  possess  by  another  and  better 
tenure.  We  receive  a  gracious  covenant-right  to  the  use  and 
occupancy  of  it.  All  things,  the  world  included,  are  ours, 
for  we  are  Christ's,  and  Chiist  is  God's.  He  places  all  earth's 
resources  at  our  disposal,  and  makes  them  all  ours ;  so  that 
now  we  are  indeed  in  a  position  to  "  offer  to  him  willingly 
and  in  the  uprightness  of  our  heart"  (ver.  17),  wlrile  yet  we 
give  him  always  all  the  praise.  "  0  Lord,  our  God,  all  this 
store  that  we  have  prepared  to  build  thee  an  house  for  thy 
holy  name  cometh  of  thine  hand,  and  is  all  thine  own" 
(ver,  16).  "Of  thine  own  have  we  given  thee;  for  we  are 
strangers  before  thee  and  sojourners,  as  were  all  our  fathers. 
Our  days  on  the  earth  are  as  a  shadow," 

2.  "  Hear  my  prayer,  0  Lord,  and  give  ear  unto  my 
cry ;  hold  not  thy  peace  at  my  tears  :  for  I  am  a  stranger 
with  thee,  and  a  sojourner,  as  all  my  fathers  were"  (Ps, 
xxxix.  12). 

This  is  your  sad  cry  as  you  suffer  under  the  inevitable 
evils  of  a  stranger's  lot,  even  though  you  may  have  the  bless- « 
edness,  in  the  land  in  which  you  are  strangers,  of  being 
sojourners  with  him  whose  land  it  is.  For,  however  hospit- 
ably he  with  whom  you  are  sojourning  may  entertain  you, 
it  is  still,  as  it  were,  within  the  precincts  of  an  inn,  nor 
can  you  expect  to  escape  the  vexations  and  troubles  in- 
separable from  that  mode  of  accommodation.  Then  you 
must  remember  that  the  land,  in  which  as  strangers  you 
are  for  the  present  entertained  as  sojourners,  is  the  earth 
which  has  been  cursed  for  your  sin,  and  on  which,  with 
whatever  mitigation,  the  sentence  still  Kes.  You  may  think 
it  strange,  perhaps  hard,  that  you  should  be  thus  lodged, 
even  temporarily ;  in  the  midst  of  creation's  groans,  ming- 
ling with  your  own.  But,  for  wise  ends,  your  gracious  enter- 
tainer considers  this  to  be  right.  And  may  jou.  not  always 
be  appealing  to  him,  and  reminding  him  of  your  relation  to 


246  STRANGERS  AND  PILGRIMS. 

him  1  "1  am  thy  guest ;  a  stranger  sojourning  with  thee.  I 
am  a  stranger ;  a  stranger  here  in  the  land,  upon  the  earth, 
which  has  little  tolerance  for  strangers.  And  I  must  keep 
myself  a  stranger ;  a  stranger  from  its  works  and  ways  ;  more 
and  more  a  stranger  the  more  I  grow  in  thy  grace  and  in  thy 
knowledge.  Thou  hast  been  thyself  a  stranger  here.  Thou 
hast  experienced  a  stranger's  treatment,  a  stranger's  trials. 
Thou  hast  had  personal  and  painful  acquaintance  with  all 
that  the  world  can  do  to  those  who  will  not  be  conformed  to 
its  fashion  ;  with  all  the  void  its  vanity  can  cause  ;  and  aU 
the  bitter  grief  its  guilt  can  bring.  Thou  hast  consented 
to  be  made  sin,  and  made  a  curse,  for  such  as  I  am,  in  the 
world.  Now  thou  livest  and  reignest,  head  over  all  things 
for  thy  church.  The  land,  the  earth,  is  thine.  And  I 
am  a  sojourner  with  thee  in  it.  INIy  fathers  were  so ;  and 
thou  didst  deliver  them.  Thou  wilt  not  reject  my  prayer. 
Thou  wilt  not  hold  thy  peace  at  my  tears.  Thou  wilt  spare 
me  to  recover  strength." 

3.  "  I  am  a  stranger  in  the  earth ;  hide  not  thy  com- 
mandments from  me"  (Ps.  cxix.  19). 

The  point  and  pith  of  this  prayer  would  seem  to  lie  in  the 
continual  need  which  one  who  is  a  stranger  on  the  earth  has 
of  communion  with  him  whose  guest  he  is ;  with  whom,  as 
a  stranger,  he  is  a  sojourner.  In  that  character,  as  a  stranger 
on  the  earth,  I  do  not  now  desire  to  have  more  fellowship 
with  the  people  of  the  land  than  is  necessary  for  pious  ends ; 
for  the  comely  burial  of  my  dead,  or  for  the  discharge  of  my 
duty  of  love  to  the  living.  I  would  rather  converse  with 
him  who  says,  "  The  land  is  mine."  And  the  medium  of 
conversation  with  him  is  his  word,  or  his  commandments. 
His  commandments  ;  his  communications  of  whatever  sort ; 
precepts,  promises,  histories,  prophecies,  warnings,  encourage- 
ments ;  all  sayings  of  his,  for  they  are  all  commandments ; 
I  desire  to  use  as  means  of  real  personal  converse  with  him. 


STRANGEKS  AND   PILGRIMS.  247 

But  I  cannot  do  so  unless  he  opens  my  eyes.  Therefore,  I 
pray,  "  Hide  not  thy  commandments  from  me." 

This  prayer  may  fitly  close  the  present  discourse.  It 
is  suitable  and  relevant  to  all  the  views  I  have  been  ask- 
ing you  to  take  of  your  position  and  calling  as  strangers  in 
the  land,  and  sojourners  in  it  with  him  who  says,  "  The  land 
is  mine." 

Are  you  summoned  to  the  sad  task  of  burying  your 
dead ;  mourning  beside  the  freshly  opened  grave ;  or 
dealing  with  tender  memories  of  the  past?  Let  not  your 
relenting  tenderness  of  feeling  evaporate  in  vacant  sighs,  or 
passive  melancholy,  or  soft,  sentimental  musings.  Seek 
rather  to  turn  it  to  wise  practical  account,  that  by  the  sad- 
ness of  the  countenance  the  heart  may  be  made  better.  In- 
stead of  indulging  vaguely  in  the  luxury  of  woe,  let  your 
thoughts  and  feelings  take  some  definite  shape,  and  come  to 
some  precise  point.  For  that  end,  use  intelligently  and  de- 
voutly the  holy  book.  Let  the  word  of  God  become  the 
interpreter  of  his  providence  ;  suggesting  the  salutary  hints, 
teaching  the  useful  lessons,  which  the  occasion  is  designed 
to  impart.  And  ask  the  Lord's  help  in  this,  according  to  the 
prayer — "  Open  thou  mine  eyes,  that  I  may  behold  wondrous 
things  out  of  thy  law.  I  am  a  stranger  in  the  earth ;  hide 
not  thy  commandments  from  me." 

Are  you  experiencing  some  new  and  fresh  instance  of 
the  Lord's  bountiful  manner  of  entertaining  you?  Is  he 
refreshing  you  in  body  and  in  soul ;  furnishing  your  table 
with  more  than  ordinary  dainties  ;  anointing  your  head  with 
the  oil  of  unusual  gladness  ;  causing  your  cup  very  copiously 
to  run  over  1  Then,  very  speciallj^  you  need  divine  grace 
and  guidance  ;  and  you  do  well  to  consult  and  converse  with 
the  Lord,  that  you  may  not  abuse  his  hospitality,  or  find  the 
fuU  cup  he  puts  into  your  hand  too  difficult  to  carry.     Wait 


248  STRANGERS  AND  PILGRIMS. 

therefore  upon  liim  in  the  study  of  his  word,  that  you  may 
learn  how  to  use  his  gifts.  Turn  from  the  gifts  to  the  Giver. 
Let  him  teach  you  how  to  walk  with  him  still  as  strangers, 
and  not  make  this  world  your  home.  "  Lord,  hide  not  thy 
commandments  from  me." 

Are  you  moved  to  offer  willingly  to  the  Lord  your- 
selves, your  substance,  your  time,  your  talents,  your  energy 
and  zeal  1  Are  you  anxious  to  be  of  service,  to  do  good,  to 
build  his  house,  to  advance  his  cause,  to  consider  the  poor 
as  being  his  1  You  cannot  trust  yourselves,  your  own  wisdom, 
or  your  own  goodness.  You  are  apt  to  err  in  devising  ways 
and  means  of  usefulness  ;  or  to  grow  weary  in  well-doing ;  or 
to  become  self-complacent  and  self-righteous,  and  therefore 
also  careless  and  haughty.  Be  sure  that  you  take  the  Lord 
along  with  you  in  all  your  plans  and  all  your  activities ;  in 
every  visit  you  pay  to  the  widow  and  the  fatherless,  and 
every  mite  you  cast  into  any  treasury.  Seek  counsel  of  God. 
Let  him  direct  you.  "  Lord,  I  am  a  stranger  in  the  earth." 
I  have  but  a  stranger's  knowledge  of  what  it  needs,  and  of 
what  is  thy  design  or  purpose  at  any  given  time  or  place 
regarding  it.  With  the  best  intentions,  I  make  mistakes  and 
go  wrong.  And  I  am  myself  of  the  earth,  earthy.  Do  thou 
direct  me.  Do  thou  teach  me.  "  Hide  not  thy  command- 
ments from  me." 

Finally,  are  you  depressed  under  a  heavy  sense  of  the 
general  vanity  and  vexation  and  weariness  of  all  things  in 
the  world  1  Does  it  seem  as  if  all  were  barrenness  and  deso- 
lation 1  You  complain  of  you  know  not  what  ;  lassitude,  list- 
lessness,  despondency ;  the  blank  gloom  of  unprofitableness 
and  unsatisfactoriness  wrapping  the  whole  of  life  in  dreary 
clouds  and  mists.  Oh  !  rest  not  an  hour  in  such  a  mood  of 
mind.  You  are  a  stranger  in  the  earth ;  and  you  find  it 
strange  to  you ;   so  strange  at  times  that  you  think  you  can 


STRANGERS  AND  PILGRIMS.  249 

find  notliing  in  it  to  content  or  cheer  you.  Eut  the  earth 
in  which  you  are  a  stranger  is  the  Lord's  ;  and  you  are 
sojourners  with  him  in  it.  Arise  ;  and  for  very  shame, 
shake  oS  your  lethargy.  Go  to  him  whose  guests  you  are. 
Talk  with  him  about  the  land  in  which  you  are  his  guests, 
and  which  is  his.  Question  him  about  all  those  things  that 
vex  or  weary  you.  "  I  am  a  stranger  in  the  earth,  hide  not 
thy  commandments  from  me." 


250  LIVING  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LOED. 


XV. 
LIVIN"G  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LOED. 

"For  none  of  us  liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  dietli  to  himself  For 
whether  we  live,  we  live  unto  the  Lord  ;  and  whether  we  die,  we 
die  unto  the  Lord  :  whether  we  live  therefore,  or  die,  we  are  the 
Lord's." — Romans  xiv.  7,  8. 

This  is  an  instance  of  Paul's  way  of  rising  from  a  particular 
question  to  a  general  principle.  It  is  a  way  that  is  characteristic 
of  the  whole  of  the  ethical  or  moral  teacliing  of  the  gospel.  A 
doubtful  disputation  springs  up,  on  a  small  and  narrow  point 
of  casuistry,  as  to  meats  or  days.  Instead  of  its  being  discussed 
by  subtle  argumentation  and  a  fine  balance  of  small  reasons 
for  and  against,  the  case  is  at  once  carried  into  a  higher,  and 
purer,  and  broader,  region  of  spiritual  thought  and  duty, 
from  whence  there  may  be  got  both  a  nearer  insight  into 
heaven  and  a  larger  oversight  of  earth.  In  this  view,  what 
can  be  more  refreshing  than  to  observe,  not  only  in  our 
Lord's  answers  to  the  various  adversaries  who  sought  to  take 
hi  Til  in  his  talk,  Pharisees,  Sadducees,  Herodians,  scribes, 
lawyers,  priests  ;  but  also  in  Paul's  manner  of  dealing  with 
the  practical  difficulties  that  even  in  his  day  had  begun  to 
embarrass  the  churches,  the  summary  and  decisive,  and  as  it 
were  off-hand  abruptness  with  which  questions  that  in 
the  hands  of  sophists  or  Jesuits,  whether  Protestant  or 
Popish,  might  simply  furnish  occasion  for  the  nicest  and 
vaguest  subtilties  of  cloudy,  casuistical  refining,  are  lifted 
up  to   the  brighter  and  holier  atmosphere  of  the  heavenly 


LIVING  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LORD.  251 

places,  Avliere,  being  dead  and  buried  with  Clirist,  and  also 
risen  with,  him,  seeing  light  in  his  light,  Ave  may  with  single- 
ness of  eye  have  the  whole  body  full  of  light  1 

The  present  is  a  case  in  j^oint.  The  peace  of  the  church 
is  threatened  by  questions  about  meats  and  days.  The  dis- 
puting parties  have  much  to  say,  not  only  in  support  of  their 
respective  principles  and  practices  ;  that  would  have  raised 
no  difficulty  ;  but  against  tolerating  or  receiving  as  brethren 
those  who  differed  from  them.  The  case  comes  before  the 
apostle.  Instantly,  at  once,  he  carries  it,  as  if  by  appeal  or 
solemn  reference,  to  the  upper  sanctuary.  There  at  least 
both  parties  in  the  dispute  are  one.  They  are  on  the  same 
footing  ;  having  one  Lord  over  them,  and  one  judge  before 
them.  If  the  discussion  of  the  doubtful  question  must  go 
on,  it  will  be,  as  it  were,  from  a  different  position  on  both 
sides  ;  from  above,  where  they  are  one,  not  from  below, 
where  their  differences  emerge. 

But  this  is  not  all.  Eaised  to  this  heavenly  platform, 
Ave  not  only  see  the  particular  matter  at  issue  in  a  ncAV  and 
harmonising  light,  suggesting  forbearance,  charity,  and  peace ; 
Ave  see  ourselves  and  our  brethren  as  occupying  a  more 
exalted  and  sacred  jDosition  than  we  dreamt  of  Avhen  Ave 
sought  to  concuss  or  coerce  one  another  in  regard  to  it.  We 
belong,  our  brethren  and  we,  not  to  one  another,  not  even  to 
ourselves.  If  Ave  did,  we  might  judge  one  another  and  judge 
for  one  another.  But  no  ;  Ave  are  not  our  OAvn.  We  belong,  our 
brethren  and  Ave  alike,  to  a  divine  Master,  Avho,  in  this,  and 
in  all  things,  is  Lord  over  us  all  alike.     There  is  here 

I.  A  fact  stated,  both  negatively  and  positively ;  "  For 
none  of  us  liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself 
For  Avhether  Ave  live,  Ave  live  unto  the  Lord  ;  and  whether 
Ave  die,  we  die  unto  the  Lord."     And  there  is 

II.  An  inference  deduced  from  the  fact  :  "  Whether  we 
live  therefore,  or  die,  we  are  the  Lord's." 


252  LIVING  AND  DYING  TO    THE  LORD. 

I.  There  is  a  fact  liere  stated,  respecting  all  believers.  It 
may  be  true  of  others ;  but  it  is  asserted  here  with  special 
reference  to  them.  They  are  called  to  realise  it.  And  they 
are  to  realise  it,  not  as  an  advice  or  command,  vpith  which 
they  may  or  may  not  comply ;  but  as  a  great  accomplished 
fact,  to  which  they  must  conform.  What,  then,  is  the  fact  ? 
In  what  sense  is  it  true  of  us,  as  believers,  that  none  of  us 
liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself ;  but  that 
whether  we  live,  we  live  unto  the  Lord  ;  and  whether  we 
die,  we  die  unto  the  Lord  1 

I  take  the  negative  form  of  the  statement  fii'st.  And 
I  ask  what  is  meant  by  the  living  to  ourselves,  and  dying 
to  ourselves,  which  is  here  so  emphatically  disclaimed  or  de- 
nied 1  "  ISTone  of  us  liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to 
himself"  There  is  a  sense  in  which  we  speak  of  a  man  living 
to  himself,  when  he  consults  and  acts,  in  all  that  he  proposes 
and  does,  with  a  view,  to  himself,  as  his  great  end,  with  a 
selfish  eye  to  his  own  interests  or  his  own  pleasure. 
Is  this  the  explanation  of  the  phrase  here  1  It  might 
be  so,  were  it  not  for  what  follows,  "none  of  us  dieth 
unto  himself."  A  selfish  man  may  be  said  to  live  to 
himself ;  and  as  believers,  delivered  from  selfishness,  it 
may  be  said  of  us  that  none  of  us  liveth  to  himself 
But  what  of  the  other  clause — "Kone  of  us  dieth  to  him- 
self" 1  for  it  is  the  same  word  that  is  used  by  the  apostle  in 
both  clauses  ;  not  "  no  man,"  but  "  none."  How  is  that 
denied  of  us  1  Is  it  a  matter  within  our  choice  ?  Can  any 
man  die  unto  himself  in  the  sense  in  which  a  selfish  man  is 
described  as  living  unto  himself?  It  can  scarcely  be  put  as 
a  distinctive  characteristic  of  us  as  believers,  that  none  of  us 
dieth  to  himself,  as  if  unbelievers  died  to  themselves.  It 
may  be  said  j^erhaps  that  he  does  ;  that  he  selfishly  dies 
to  himself,  when,  feeling  death  approach,  he  is  only  the 
more  intensely  occupied  with  himself,  his  comfort,  his  reputa- 


LIVING  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LORD.  253 

tion,  his  affairs,  and  applies  his  whole  mind  merely  to  con- 
sider how  his  death  can  best  be  turned  to  account  for  up- 
holding his  character  or  forwarding  his  schemes.  But  that  is 
really  living  to  himself,  not  dying  to  himself,  spending  the 
last  remnant  of  his  life  in  selfishness  ;  not  dying  for  his  OAvn 
profit. 

When  dying  or  not  dying  to  one's  self  is  connected,  as 
in'  the  text,  with  living  or  not  livitig  to  one's  self,  it  is 
plain  that  states  of  being,  not  deeds  or  actions,  must  be 
intended.  There  can  be  no  reference,  in  short,  to  what  is 
matter  of  voluntary  choice,  but  rather  to  what  is  ordered 
and  arranged  for  us.  It  is  not  what  we  do  by  our  own  free 
will,  but  what  we  are  irrespectively  of  our  own  free  will, 
that  the  expressions  before  us  denote.  The  life  we  have, 
the  death  we  are  to  have  are  not  to  ourselves ;  '*'  none  of 
us  liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself." 

But  the  question  still  remains.  What  precisely  is  to  be 
understood  by  this  living  to  one's  self  and  dying  to  one's  seK, 
that  is  so  emphatically  disowned  ?  And  here  it  may  first  be 
asked.  How  far  does  this  statement  apply  universally  to  all, 
to  the  unregenerate  as  well  as  to  the  believing  people  of  God  1 
It  is  these  last  who  are  chiefly  in  the  apostle's  mind.  But 
the  statement,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  is  universally  true  and 
applicable  to  all,  that  "  none  of  us  liveth  to  himself,  and 
none  dieth  to  himself." 

Yes ;  we  may  go  to  the  man  still  in  his  natural  state, 
unregenerate,  unbelieving,  and  say  to  him  boldly.  You  do 
not  live  to  yourself ;  you  do  not  die  to  yourself.  I  enter  the 
busy  hall  of  commerce  or  chamber  of  exchange,  where  mer- 
chants most  do  congregate  ;  and  amidst  the  crowd  of 
restless  and  careworn  speculators,  all  making  haste  to  be 
rich  in  life,  and  to  bequeath  riches  at  death,  I  lift  up  a 
voice  of  warning  and  cry,  "  None  of  you  liveth  to  himself,  and 
none  of  you  dieth  to  himself."     I  visit  the  haunt  of  gaiety 


254  LIVING  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LORD. 

and  dissipation,  arresting  the  flow  of  idle  talk,  silencing  the 
din  of  revelry  and  mirth ;  I  ring  in  the  ears  of  these  chil- 
dren of  vanity  the  same  ominous  announcement,  "  None  of 
you  liveth  to  himself,  and  none  of  you  dieth  to  himself." 
Live  you  may,  for  a  few  years  longer  ;  and,  so  far  as  the 
hent  and  bias  of  your  own  will  goes,  you  may  live  to 
yourselves  alone.  You  may  rejoice,  0  young  men  or 
maidens,  in  your  youth,  and  your  heart  may  cheer  you  in  the 
days  of  your  youth  !  You  may  walk  in  the  ways  of  your 
own  heart,  and  in  the  sight  of  your  own  eyes.  And  yet, 
plan  and  purpose  as  you  may,  strive  and  struggle  as  you 
may,  not  one  of  you  all  is  Hving  really  to  himself.  The  life 
you  are  living,  such  as  it  is,  that  life  so  self-engrossed, 
whether  in  the  worship  of  gold  or  gain,  or  in  the  keen 
pursuit  of  pleasure,  is  not  indeed  to  yourselves.  You  heaj) 
up  riches,  and  know  not  who  shall  gather  them.  You  live 
in  wantonness,  but  you  live  in  vain.  Surely  every  man  at 
his  best  state  is  altogether  vanity. 

Yes ;  among  the  multitudes  who  are  living  without  God 
in  the  world,  none  of  them  all  is  truly  living  to  himself! 
Each  one  of  them  is  living  a  life,  which,  let  him  spend  it  as 
he  may,  is  not  to  himself.  It  is  not  really  to  himself  that, 
seliish  as  he  may  be  to  the  very  heart's  core,  he  liveth. 
Alike  in  its  source  and  in  its  whole  stream  and  current,  his  life 
has  a  mystery  and  a  meaning  beyond  any  purpose  or  power 
of  his.  A  man  cannot  isolate  himself  in  this  great  and 
goodly  universe  of  being.  He  cannot  become  either  a 
hermit  or  a  god  ;  he  cannot  live  to  himself. 

And  how  emphatically  and  awfully  true  is  it  of  the 
ungodly,  in  their  latter  end,  that  none  of  them  dieth  unto 
himself !  If  even  their  life  is  so  little,  in  any  profitable 
sense  or  to  any  practical  account,  really  to  themselves,  how 
much  less  their  death  !  What !  the  wicked  die  to  them- 
selves.    Nay.    "  Who  can  dwell  with  everlasting  burnings  ?" 


LIVING  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LORD.  255 

Who  can  stand  in  the  day  of  the  Lord's  wrath  1  "  It  is  a 
fearful  thing  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God  ! " 
Judas,  when  he  took  the  matter  in  his  own  hands,  when 
he  chose  the  time  and  manner  of  his  own  death,  when  he 
went  and  hanged  himself,  did  he  die  to  himself?  Or  the 
company  of  Corah,  whom  the  earth  swallowed  up  alive,  did 
any  one  of  them  die  to  himself?  Or  take  the  vast  number 
of  whom  it  may  be  said  that  there  are  no  bands  in  their 
death  ;  who  close  a  life  of  vanity  with  self-righteous  decorum 
or  mere  slumbering  insensibility,  does  any  one  of  them  die 
to  himself,  to  his  own  good,  for  his  own  benefit,  to  his  own 
profit,  as  if  his  death  were  for  himself  alone  ? 

How  great,  ye  godless  ones,  is  your  madness  !  If  you  could 
live  to  yourselves,  or  die  to  yourselves,  then  indeed  ye  might 
have  some  apology  for  trifling  as  you  now  do  with  the  pre- 
cious gift  of  life  and  the  awful  doom  of  death.  If,  0  sinner, 
you  could  detach  yourself  from  the  system  to  which  you  be- 
long, and  shake  yourself  free  from  all  connection  with  the 
intelligent  creation  around  you,  and  the  moral  government 
that  is  exercised  over  it,  if  yours  were  a  desert  and  desolate 
island  in  the  universe  on  which  you  found  yourself  dwelling 
alone,  underived,  independent,  irresponsible ;  yourself  your 
own  creator,  preserver,  lawgiver,  and  judge  ;  if  your  personal 
history,  for  time  and  for  eternity,  were  to  be  constructed,  at 
your  own  pleasure,  apart  from  all  laws  and  powers  and  move- 
ments beyond  yourself;  if  it  were  to  be  written,  by  your 
own  hand,  in  a  leaf  severed  altogether  from  the  great  uni- 
versal book  of  destiny  and  duty  and  grace  and  judgment ; 
then  it  might  be  wise,  or  at  least  it  might  be  safe,  to  deal 
with  the  issues  of  life  and  death  as  now  you  do ;  leaving  the 
settlement  of  all  to  future  chance,  or  sacrificing  all  to  present 
gaiety  or  gain. 

But,  if,  0  my  poor  friend,  the  very  reverse  of  all  this 
is  true ;  if,  speculate  as  you  may,  and  struggle  as  you  may, 


256  LIVING  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LORD. 

you  must  yet,  after  all,  find  yourself,  in  Me  and  in  death, 
linked  to  an  order  of  things  above  and  beyond  your  own 
control ;  if  your  position  is  really  that  of  one  who,  coming 
into  a  busy  and  crowded  factory,  must  either  take  his  place 
and  do  his  work,  or  be  torn  and  trampled  under  foot,  and 
perish ;  if,  as  everything  in  your  inward  constitution,  and 
everything  in  your  outward  condition,  indicates,  if,  from  the 
very  fijst  dawn  of  existence,  downwards  throughout  infinite 
ages,  you  never  for  a  single  moment  can  order  your  own  lot, 
or :  be  dealt  with ;  by  yourself,  ajjart ;  but  must,  whether 
you  will  or  no,  and  whether  for  weal  or  woe,  fall  in  with  the 
onward,  irresistible  march  of  a  mighty,  all-embracing,  and 
never-ending  moral  administration,  outside  of  you  and  be- 
yond all  control  of  yours ;  if,  in  short,  none  of  you  liveth 
to  himself,  and  none  of  you  dieth  to  himself ;  oh !  what 
infatuation,  what  worse  than  the  worst  insanity  is  it, 
to  make  so  little  account  as  you  seem  to  do  of  life  and 
death ! 

Life  and  death  !  Dread  mysteries  both  of  them  !  Mys- 
teries all  the  more,  because  of  the  indissoluble  ties  by  which 
they  bind  us  to  whatever  power  upholds  the  universe  and 
whatever  law  will  judge  it !  Mysteries,  above  all,  because  of  the 
tremendous  issues  that  turn  on  opportunities  so  momentary  ! 
Life  that  in  an  hour  may  close  !  Death,  once  for  all,  never, 
never  to  come  again,  that  you  may  have  another  chance,  or 
make  another  trial,  of  dying  !  And  what  then  1  What  be- 
yond 1  What  but  one  unbroken  and  unchanging  eternity, 
wherein,  at  last,  if  not  before,  reaping  as  they  have  sown, 
glorifying  God  in  his  penal  and  retributive  justice,  and  suffer- 
ing the  vengeance  of  eternal  fire,  the  wicked,  with  the  doomed 
angels,  shall  know  terribly — because  too  late — that  "  none  of 
us  liveth  to  himself,  and  none  dieth  to  himself." 

But  it  is  of  believers  that  the  apostle  speaks  when  he  says, 
"  none  of  us  liveth  to  himself,  and  none  dieth  to  himself." 


LIVING  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LORD.  257 

For  the  believer  in  Jesus,  by  the  very  fact  of  his  believing, 
both  life  and  death  are  invested  with  an  entirely  new  character 
and  new  value  :  and  it  must  be  with  reference  to  this  new 
character  and  new  value,  with  which  his  life  and  his  death 
are  invested,  that  it  is  here  said  of  him  that  he  does  not  live 
to  himself,  or  die  to  himself  Your  life  and  death,  then,  0 
believers  in  Jesus,  are  not  to  yourselves.  I  mean  your  new 
life  and  new  death,  as  believers.  They  are  not  to  be  ascribed 
to  yourselves,  as  if  they  belonged  to  you,  as  being  pur- 
chased or  procured  by  you.  It  is  not  to  yourselves  that  you 
owe  your  living  the  new  spiritual  life,  and  dying  the  new 
heavenly  death ;  living  the  hfe  that  is  hid  with  Christ  in 
God,  and  dying  the  death  which  has  no  sting,  and  which 
leaves  to  the  grave  no  victory.  Neither  do  your  life  and 
.death  belong  to  you,  0  believers,  as  if  for  your  own  sakes 
and  on  your  own  account  merely  they  were  given  to  you. 

Your  being  made  spiritually  alive  you  owe  not  to  your- 
selves ;  it  is  a  free  gift.  N'or  is  it  a  gift  terminating  or  taking 
end  in  yourselves.  It  has  respect  to  something  out  of  and 
beyond  yourselves.  And  in  the  same  way,  as  to  that  death 
which  it  is  your  privilege  to  die,  it  is  altogether  a  free  gift. 
And,  Hke  the  life  of  faith  of  which  it  is  the  close,  it  is  not  a 
gift  bestowed  on  you  for  your  own  sakes  only ;  as  if  all  that 
was  contemplated  in  it  were  your  own  quiet  and  hopeful  pass- 
age into  eternity.  It  is  not,  in  this  view,  to  yourself  only 
that  you  die.  Your  death  has  bearings  and  influences  and 
results  far  out  of  the  reach  of  your  imagination  or  that  of  any 
of  your  friends.  None  of  you  liveth  to  himself,  none  dieth 
to  himself ! 

But  now  secondly,  let  us  look  at  the  positive  side  of  the 
Apostle's  statement  in  our  text.  The  believer  most  gladly 
and  gratefully  owns  "  that  whether  he  lives,  he  lives  unto 
the  Lord  ;  and  whether  he  dies,  he  dies  unto  the  Lord."  If 
you  live  at  all,  spiritually,  and  in  so  far  as  you  live,  you 

s 


258  LIVING  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LORD. 

not  only  owe  tliat  life  to  the  Lord,  but  you  ascribe  to 
the  Lord,  in  the  bestowing  of  that  life  upon  you,  an  end 
beyond  your  own  mere  peace  and  safety,  an  end  connected 
with  himself;  "whether  you  live,  you  live  unto  the  Lord." 
The  life  you  have  got  is  not  only  from  him ;  it  is  also  and 
emphatically  to  him.  Your  life,  if  indeed  you  live,  as 
accepted  in  the  Beloved,  justified  through  the  righteousness, 
renewed  by  the  Spirit,  and  adopted  into  a  participation  of  the 
sonship  of  Jesus, — your  life  is  to  the  Lord.  You  are  not 
made  sj)iritually  alive,  merely  for  your  own  comfort  and 
peace ;  whether  you  live,  it  is  to  the  Lord.  It  is  for 
himself  that  he  has  redeemed  and  renewed  and  quickened 
you.  Thus  he  explains  his  dealings  with  his  people  of  old, — 
"  Thus  saith  the  Lord  God,  I  do  not  this  for  your  sakes,  0 
house  of  Israel,  but  for  mine  holy  name's  sake"  (Ezek.  xxxvi. 
22).  And  thus  Paul  accounts  for  his  own  conversion, — 
"  Howbeit  for  this  cause  I  obtained  mercy,  that  in  me  first 
Jesus  Christ  might  shew  forth  all  long-sufi'ering,  for  a  pattern 
to  them  which  should  hereafter  beheve  on  him  to  life  ever- 
lasting" (1  Tim.  i.  16). 

And  so  also  as  to  the  death  you  have  to  die  ;  "  whether  we 
die,  we  die  unto  the  Lord."  You  die  ;  even  you  that  believe 
in  Jesus.  Very  different,  indeed,  is  your  death  from  that  of 
unregenerate  men.  Even  they,  as  to  their  miserable  death, 
die  not  unto  themselves ;  they  die  unto  the  Lord,  unto  him 
who  hath  made  all  tilings  unto  himself,  yea  even  the  wicked 
for  the  day  of  evil ;  and  who,  willing  to  show  his  wrath  and 
make  his  power  known,  endures,  with  much  long-suffering, 
the  vessels  of  wrath  fitted  to  destruction.  No  such  death 
awaits  you.  To  you  the  whole  character  of  death  is  changed. 
It  is  no  more  penal ;  it  has  no  more  sting.  It  is  a  falling 
asleep ;  a  departing  to  be  with  Christ,  And,  with  all  its 
blessedness,  it  is  unto  the  Lord.  Your  hopeful  death,  like  your 
holy  life,  you  owe  to  him.     And  your  death, — your  being 


LIVING  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LOKD.  259 

enabled  and  permitted  thus  to  die, — is  unto  liim.  For  he  is 
himself  the  great  end  and  final  cause  of  the  whole  economy  of 
gi'ace  and  the  whole  dispensation  of  the  Spirit,  through  which  it 
is  that  you  do  thus  die.  Well,  therefore,  may  it  be  said  that 
precious  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his  saints ; 
their  very  dust  is  dear  to  him,  and  their  blood  is  precious  in 
his  sight.  For  their  death  is  to  him ;  they  die  to  the  Lord. 
He  is  glorified  in  their  dying. 

These  views  may  tend  to  soothe  our  spirits,  in  the  contem- 
plation alike  of  the  lives  and  of  the  deaths  of  the  people  of 
God.  The  lives  of  these  servants  of  the  Lord  are  not  always 
such  as  we  might  beforehand  have  desired  or  expected.  Nor 
do  their  deaths  correspond  in  all  instances  with  what  might 
seem  to  us  expedient.  They  often,  in  life,  have  a  troubled 
and  uneasy  course.  Bodily  disease  and  disorder,  mental 
depression,  adverse  circumstances  and  reverses  of  fortune, 
family  afflictions,  and  loss  of  friends,  may  be  observed  as 
their  thorns  in  the  flesh.  Or  still  more  painfully  to  disturb 
their  pilgrimage,  still  more  distressingly  to  awaken  dark 
thoughts  in  the  onlookers,  spiritual  trials  mar  the  smooth 
and  even  flow  of  their  religious  experience.  And  it  may 
seem  strange  and  almost  unaccountable  that  holy  men  should 
be  visited  with  such  seasons  of  desertion  and  despondency  as 
are  allotted  to  them. 

But  may  not  the  explanation  be  found  in  this  fact,  that 
none  of  them  liveth  to  himself  ]  "We  are  set,  says  Paul,  as 
a  spectacle  to  angels  and  men.  The  behever's  life  is  not  unto 
himself  alone ;  God  has  other  ends  to  serve  by  it  besides  the 
behever's  own  peace,  or  even  his  sanctification  and  salvation. 
Did  the  Psalmist,  for  example,  as  a  spiritual  man,  a  subject 
of  grace,  and  a  child  of  God,  hve  unto  himself  1  Was  it  as 
living  unto  himself  that  he  was  made  to  undergo  that 
marvellous  variety  of  experiences  of  all  sorts,  joyous  and 
grievous,  sin-laden  and  sin-reheved,  dark  and  bright,  par- 


260  LIVING  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LORD. 

taking  of  all  earth's  vicissitudes,  all  hell's  terrors,  and  all 
heaven's  glories,  which  makes  his  harp  the  common  instru- 
ment of  praise  for  all  believers  in  all  ages,  and  his  feongs  the 
staple  alike  of  their  praise  and  of  their  complaints,  in  every 
mood  of  mind  and  in  every  changing  scene  1 

And  to  the  death  of  the  Lord's  saints  and  servants,  as 
well  as  to  their  tried  and  troubled  life,  may  this  same  con- 
sideration reconcile  us.  These  deaths  may  seem  to  be,  many 
of  them,  premature  ;  unseasonable  in  respect  of  the  age  of 
those  taken  away  ;  unseasonable,  especially,  in  respect  of  the 
exigencies  of  the  times  that  can  ill  afford  such  losses.  One 
consolation  we  have  in  the  assurance  that  for  themselves, 
being  ripe  to  depart  and  to  be  with  Christ  is  far  better  than 
to  remain.  But  the  text  suggests  another.  The  fact  of  its  being 
good  for  themselves,  is  not  the  only  or  the  chief  reason  of 
their  renewal.  None  of  them  dieth  to  himself  If  they  die, 
they  die  unto  the  Lord.  Their  death  is  not  for  their  own 
sakes  merely,  but  for  the  Lord's  ;  it  is  to  advance  the  Lord's 
cause  and  promote  the  Lord's  ends.     They  die  to  the  Lord. 

11.  Such  being  the  fact ;  that  "  whether  we  live,  we  live 
unto  the  Lord ;  and  whether  Ave  die,  we  die  unto  the  Lord ; " 
it  follows  as  a  fair  and  necessary  inference,  that  "  whether  we 
live  or  die,  we  are  the  Lord's.  If,  living  and  dying,  we  live 
and  die  to  the  Lord,  this  manifestly  implies  that,  living  and 
dying,  we  are  the  Lord's.  We  are  in  his  hands  ;  at  his  dis- 
posal ;  absolutely  and  out  and  out  his  property,  to  be  dealt 
with  by  him  according  to  his  good  pleasure.  Thus  we  and 
all  men  are  the  Lord's. 

All  men,  I  say.  For  here  again  I  must  apply  this  word 
first,  with  all  affection,  yet  with  all  faithfulness  and  plainness 
of  speech,  to  the  ungodly  and  unbelieving.  It  is  true  of  you, 
whether  you  will  or  no,  that  living  and  dying  you  are  the 
Lord's.     And  remember  that  the  life  and  death  in  respect 


LIVING  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LORD.  261 

of  which  you  are  the  Lord's,  are  not  unto  yourselves,  but  unto 
the  Lord, 

Ah !  in  this  view,  I  may  well  ask,  Have  the  workers  of 
iniquity  no  knowledge  ?  You  have  life  from  the  Lord  and 
death  too.  Both  the  life  and  the  death,  you  are  solemnly 
assured,  are  not  unto  yourselves  merely,  but  have  ends  and 
issues  reaching  far  beyond  yourselves,  and  involving  manifold 
considerations  besides  your  welfare  alone.  And  you  whose 
life  and  whose  death  are  thus  not  unto  yourselves,  are  yet 
yourselves,  living  and  dying,  the  Lord's.  He  has  you  in  his 
grasp,  and  you  cannot  escape. 

Ah  !  were  either  of  these  two  things  otherwise,  your  case 
might  not  be  so  desperate  as  it  is.  If  the  life  you  live  and 
the  death  you  have  to  die  were  unto  yourselves  ;  or  if  you, 
living  and  dying  not  unto  yourselves,  but  whether  you  think 
it  or  not,  whether  you  choose  it  or  not,  unto  the  Lord ; 
were  still  yourselves  your  own,  and  not  his  ;  you  might  have 
some  apology  for  your  unconcern,  and  for  living  and  dying  as 
you  please.  But,  0  my  friends  !  do  but  consider  what  it  is 
to  belong  absolutely  and  helplessly  to  that  very  Lord  who 
tells  you  that,  live  as  you  may,  it  is  to  him  and  his  ends,  and 
not  to  yourselves,  that  you  live ;  and  die  as  you  may,  it  is  to 
him  and  to  his  ends,  and  not  to  yourselves,  that  you  die  ! 
Oh  !  surely  "  it  is  hard  for  you  to  kick  against  the  pricks  !" 
Consider  who  this  Lord  is.  Is  it  not  he  who,  at  a  great 
price,  has  purchased  this  lordship  over  you,  this  ownership 
of  you  1  "  For  to  this  end  Christ  both  died,  and  rose,  and  re- 
vived, that  he  might  be  Lord  both  of  the  dead  and  living." 

It  is  Jesus,  who  died  and  rose  again,  to  whom  the  Father 
has  given  power  over  all  flesh.  And  what  are  the  purposes 
which  he  has  now  in  his  heart,  and  to  which  he  must,  of  very 
necessity,  make  your  living  and  your  dying  subservient? 
Are  they  not  purposes  stretching  infinitely  beyond  any  selfish 
views  and  aims  of  yours  touching  your  own  mere  safety  and 


262  LIVING  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LORD. 

impunity  1  What !  Did  he  himself  leave  the  glory  of  the 
upper  sanctuary,  and  tabernacle  in  flesh  here  on  the  earth, 
and  endure  the  pains  of  guilt  and  wrath,  and  lie  in  the  dark 
grave,  and  burst  the  bands  of  death  and  hell^  and  ascend  tri- 
umphant to  heaven,  for  no  higher,  holier  end  than  you,  in 
your  living  and  dying,  might  propose  to  your  carnal  minds  ? 
He  seeks  the  glory  of  his  Father ;  the  glory  of  his  Father's 
justice  as  vi^ell  as  of  his  Father's  love ;  his  penal  severity  as 
vi'ell  as  his  rich  and  tender  mercy.  He  seeks  the  establish- 
ment of  his  people,  in  righteousness  and  peace,  for  ever. 

Ay  !  And  it  is  for  accomplishing  these  ends  that  he  has 
it  made  sure  to  him,  in  the  everlasting  covenant,  that  you,  0 
sinners,  every  one  of  you,  whether  you  live,  live  not  to 
yourselves,  but  to  him ;  and  whether  you  die,  die  not  to 
yourselves,  but  to  him  !  Else  you  might,  living  or  dying, 
frustrate  and  make  void  the  great  designs  of  his  mediatorial 
cross  and  crown.  And  you,  who  must  thus  have  your  living 
and  your  dying  alike  made  to  serve  these  great  designs  of  his, 
— you,  whether  you  live,  or  whether  you  die,  are  yotirselves 
his ;  his  to  be  used,  and  turned  to  account,  and  disposed  of, 
for  these  designs  of  his  :  you  are  his ;  altogether  and  for 
ever  his ;  prisoners  in  his  prison  house ;  criminals  reserved 
for  his  judgment ;  enemies  given  over  to  his  execution  upon 
them  of  deserved  and  inevitable  wrath.  I  beseech  you,  be- 
loved brethren,  to  "  flee  from  this  wrath  to  come."  "  Kiss 
ye  the  Son,  lest  he  be  angry,  and  ye  perish  from  the  way, 
when  his  wrath  is  kindled  but  a  little." 

But  again,  I  turn  to  you  who  believe.  My  text  concerns 
you.     And  it  does  so  both  for  comfort  and  for  admonition. 

It  is  your  comfort  to  know  that,  whether  you  live  or 
die,  you  are  the  Lord's ;  and  very  specially  to  know  this  in 
connection  with  the  assurance  which  goes  before,  that  "  none 
of  you  liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself."  Is  it 
indeed  true  that  your  life  and  death,  as  spiritual  no  less  than  as 


LIVING  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LORD.  263 

natural  men,  are  not  to  yourselves,  but  to  the  Lord  ?  Then, 
of  very  necessity,  for  his  own  name's  sake,  he  must  take 
you,  and  have  you,  and  keep  you,  living  or  dying,  as  his  own. 
Whether  you  live,  you  live  to  him.  Well ;  that  he  may 
turn  your  life,  which  is  his  gift,  to  his  own  wise  and  gracious 
purposes,  since  it  is  unto  him  that  you  live,  he  must  have 
you,  thus  living,  to  be  his,  and  his  alone. 

Ah  !  what  a  security  have  you  here,  believers.  What  a 
guarantee,  both  for  the  safe  preservation  and  for  the  right 
ordering  of  your  life,  as  a  life  that  you  live  not  unto  your- 
selves, but  unto  the  Lord  !  If  the  life  he  gives  you, — the  life 
spu'itual,  I  mean,  over  and  above  the  life  natural, — were  for 
ends  and  uses  of  your  own  ;  if  it  were  unto  yourselves ;  you 
might  dread  the  risk  of  your  forfeiting  it,  or  of  his  withdraw- 
ing it,  or  suffering  it  to  languish  and  decay.  A  woman  may 
forget  her  sucking  child,  and  cease  to  have  compassion  on  the 
son  of  her  womb,  when  she  is  forced  to  view  the  life,  drawn 
from  her  womb,  and  nourished  by  her  bosom,  as  no  more 
pleasant  or  profitable  to  herself,  but  only  turned  to  the  ac- 
count of  selfish  ends,  in  Avhich  she  can  have  no  share  and  no 
concern.  But  the  Lord  will  not  forget  you.  He  cannot. 
For  your  life  of  grace,  which  you  have  from  him,  is  also 
to  him ;  very  profitable  to  him,  as  redounding  to  his  glory  ; 
very  pleasant  and  congenial,  as  being  according  to  his  heart. 
Because  your  life  is  thus  to  him,  as  well  as  of  him,  he  wiU 
see  to  its  safe  keeping  and  final  blessedness.  He  will  gi'ave 
your  names  on  the  palms  of  his  hands,  and  guard  you  as  the 
apple  of  his  eye. 

And  if  thus  living  unto  him,  you  are  so  securely  his, 
— ah  !  how,  as  regards  your  dying,  may  you  cast  all  your  care 
upon  him  !  Your  dying  is  unto  him.  And  therefore  it  con- 
cerns him  to  see  to  it, — and  he  will  assuredly  see  to  it, — that 
all  about  your  dying  shall  be  rightly  arranged.  Dying,  you 
are  his  ;  for  you  die  unto  liim.     Your  dying,  indeed,  may  not 


264  LIVING  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LORD. 

be  so  timed  or  so  adjusted  as  you  or  your  friends  might  judge 
best.  But  still  you  and  tbey  have  this  confidence,  that  your 
dying,  whensoever,  wheresoever,  howsoever,  death  may  come, 
is  and  must  be  unto  the  Lord.  You  may  leave  therefore  the 
ordering  of  it,  as  to  time,  place,  and  manner,  entirely  to  him. 
In  your  dying,  which  is  unto  him,  you  are  and  must  be  his. 

Is  not  this  enough  to  allay  all  anxiety  beforehand,  and  to 
remove  every  fear  when  your  hour  arrives  1  You  are  tempted 
sometimes  to  anticipate  in  imagination  the  circumstances  of 
your  latter  end ;  and  to  speculate  as  to  how  things  may  then 
fall  out,  and  how  you  may  be  able  to  hold  on.  Eut,  0  my 
friends  !  beware  of  such  looking  ahead.  It  is  always  danger- 
ous as  well  as  presumptuous  to  be  asking  a  sign,  or  seeking 
to  put  to  the  proof  either  yourselves  or  God  as  to  trials  not 
yet  come.  "  Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof." 
There  is  no  promise  of  grace  in  advance  of  the  occasion  for 
it ;  no  warrant  to  look  for  help  from  God  before  trouble,  but 
only  for  God  himself  as  a  very  present  help  in  trouble.  And 
as  to  your  death  as  well  as  your  life,  is  it  not  enough  to  know 
that  since  "none  of  you  liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth 
to  himself,"  therefore,  living  and  dying,  you  are  the  Lord's  1 

The  text  is  applicable  for  admonition  as  well  as  for 
comfort.  It  gives  the  death-blow  to  all  selfishness,  both  as 
regards  your  judgment  of  others,  and  as  regards  your  manage- 
ment of  yourselves.  For  if  the  fact  that,  whether  you  live, 
you  live  unto  the  Lord,  or  whether  you  die,  you  die  unto  the 
Lord,  makes  you,  whether  you  live  or  whether  you  die,  the 
Lord's,  in  respect  of  the  interest  which  he  must  on  that  ac- 
count feel  in  you  and  the  care  he  must  take  of  you ;  it  must 
make  you  the  Lord's  also,  in  respect  of  your  obligation,  whether 
you  Hve  or  whether  you  die,  to  feel  and  own  yourselves  to  be 
his,  and  to  seek  not  your  own  ends,  but  his.  It  is  he  who 
gives  you  your  happy  life  as  believers,  and  your  hopeful 
death.     And  he  gives  you  both  for  the  express  purpose  that 


LIVING  AND  DYING  TO  THE  LORD.  265 

they  may  be  not  unto  yourselves,  but  unto  him ;  nay,  Avith 
the  emphatic  intimation  that  they  are  so.  You  are  not  lords 
over  one  another,  entitled  to  dictate  to  one  another,  or  to 
criticise  and  condemn  one  another,  in  matters  of  doubtful 
disputation.  You  are  not  lords  over  yourselves,  entitled  to 
have  your  will  consulted,  or  to  take  it  amiss  when  your  will 
is  crossed.  AAHiether  you  live  or  whether  you  die,  you  are 
the  Lord's.  For  the  life  of  faith  which  he  gives,  and  the 
death  of  hope  which  he  promises,  are  unto  him.  "  I  do  not 
this  for  your  sakes,  0  house  of  Israel,  but  for  mine  holy 
name's  sake." 

I  believe  it,  0  Lord,  help  thou  mine  unbelief.  I  am 
willing,  Lord,  make  me  more  willing,  to  accept  the  life,  the 
death,  on  that  footing,  on  these  terms.  And  so  accepting 
thine  unspeakable  gift,  for  which  thanks  be  to  thee,  I  dare 
not  set  myself  up  as  a  judge  of  others  or  a  guide  to  myself. 
I  can  but  ask  thee,  0  Lord,  to  lead  me,  as  one  blind,  by  a  way 
that  I  know  not,  and  so  far  as  thou  permittest  me  to  see,  to 
give  me  evermore  singleness  of  eye,  that  my  whole  body  may 
be  full  of  light. 


266     Christ's  loedship  over  the  dead  and  living. 


XVI. 

CHRIST'S  LOEDSHIP  OVER  THE  DEAD  AND 

LIVING. 

"For  to  this  end  Christ  both  died,  and  rose,  and  revived,  that  he 
might  be  Lord  both  of  the  dead  and  living." — Romans  xiv.  9.* 

The  lordship  here  ascribed  to  Christ  is  very  emphatically 
represented  to  be  the  object  or  end  of  his  death  and  resur- 
rection. It  is  that  for  which  he  was  appointed  to  die  and 
rise  again.  It  is  that  with  a  view  to  which  he  actually  died 
and  rose  again.  There  is  thus,  at  all  events,  a  close  connec- 
tion of  design  and  dependence  established  between  his  dying 
and  rising  again,  and  his  being  Lord  both  of  the  dead  and 
living.  What  precisely  that  connection  is,  and  what  are 
its  j)ractical  fruits  and  issues,  may  perhaps  be  best  considered 

*  At  the  outset  I  may  expLain  that,  by  consent  of  the  best  critics, 
it  is  admitted  that  there  are  not  in  the  original  text  three  words 
descriptive  of  Christ's  work  and  its  reward,  but  only  two — not  "  died, 
and  rose,  and  revived,"  but  only  "died  and  rose,"  or  "died  and  re- 
vived." There  is  an  easy  explanation  of  the  received  text.  Some 
transcriber  may  have  tried  to  put  the  truth  of  the  text  more  emphati- 
cally, by  means  of  a  different  word  from  what  had  formerly  been  used 
to  denote  the  Lord's  resurrection.  And  soon  all  the  three  might  come 
to  be  employed,  as  giving  additional  emphasis  to  the  thought.  But  I  am 
free  from  the  necessity  of  finding  tlrree  meanings  for  the  three  words  in 
our  version.  I  may  use  the  text  as  it  stands,  but  with  this  qualifica- 
tion, that  it  is  for  the  sake  of  emphasis  merely  that  "  rose  and  revived  " 
are  conjoined  ;  and  that  I  deal  with  it  not  as  discriminating  between 
these  two  words,  but  as  identifying  them. 


Christ's  lordsiiip  over  the  dead  and  livixg.     267 

after  we  have  inquired  a  little  into  the  lordship  itself. 
First,  then,  let  us  ask  how  or  in  what  sense  Christ  is  Lord 
both  of  the  dead  and  living  1  Secondly,  how  does  his  being 
so  result  or  flow  from  his  dying  and  rising  again  1  And 
thirdly,  Avhat  bearings  of  a  practical  sort  has  his  being  thus 
Lord  both  of  the  dead  and  living,  in  virtue  of  his  dying  and 
rising  again,  on  his  own  people,  and  on  mankind  at  large  1 

The  first  of  these  questions  is  preliminary  merely,  and 
subsidiary  to  the  other  two,  but  yet  is  all-important  to  a 
right  understanding  of  them. 

L  It  is  plainly  a  mediatorial  lordship  that  Christ  is  here 
said  to  have.  It  is  a  lordship  that  can  belong  to  him  only 
in  his  mediatorial  character.  It  is  altogether  apart  from  the 
supreme  dominion  belonging  to  him  from  everlasting  as  one 
with  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the  undivided  essence 
of  the  Godhead,  and  in  the  eternalcounsel  of  the  Godhead 
for  the  government  of  the  universe.  It  may  be,  and  indeed 
is,  a  lordship  which  he  could  not  possess  were  he  not,  in  his 
own  nature,  "  over  all,  God  blessed  for  ever."  It  is  a  lord- 
ship, however,  not  possessed  from  eternity  otherwise  than  in 
decree.  As  to  actual  possession,  it  is  bestowed  in  time  and 
dependent  on  events  in  time.  It  is  as  God-man,  as 
Immauuel,  as  the  one  mediator  between  God  and  man,  the 
man  Christ  Jesus,  that  he  is  Lord. 

But  of  whom  now,  in  that  capacity,  is  he  Lord  ?  That 
is  the  question  here.  Is  it  a  universal  lordship  over  all 
things,  over  all  created  beings,  intelligences,  powers,  influ- 
ences ?  Such  a  lordship  is  conferred  on  him  as  mediator. 
So  Scripture  testifies.  But  is  that  what  is  meant  here  1  Or 
is  it  a  more  limited  lordship  over  his  own  peculiar  people 
that  is  intended  1  The  reference  to  his  death  and  resurrec- 
tion, as  procuring  or  preparing  the  way  for  the  lordship  here 
spoken  of,  does  not  of  itself  determine  that  point.  For  both 
his  lordship  over  all  things  and  his  lordship  over  his  people 


268      CHRIST'S  LORDSHIP  OVER  THE  DEAD  AND  LIVING. 

must  be  traced  to  his  dying  and  rising  again  as  their  com- 
mon source. 

But  the  occasion  of  this  whole  argument  may  determine 
which  of  the  two  it  is  that  is  in  the  apostle's  view.  What 
is  his  drift  ?  He  is  dealing  with  a  practical  matter  ;  a  matter 
of  simple  duty  among  believers.  He  is  teaching  averj^plain 
lesson  of  Christian  charity  and  forbearance.  You  differ  from 
one  another  about  some  points  of  doubtful  disputation ; 
whether,  in  certain  circumstances,  you  should  act  thus,  or 
thus ;  do  this  or  that.  It  is  assumed  that  they  are  points 
about  which  believers  may  honestly  and  conscientiously  differ, 
Avithout  prejudice  to  their  character  and  standing.  Well, 
what  should  be  your  rule  of  conduct  towards  one  another, 
and  Avhat  the  reason  of  it  1  Do  not  judge  for  one  another. 
Do  not  judge  one  another.  Let  every  man  judge  for  himself, 
and  judge  himself  That  is  the  rule.  And  the  reason  cor- 
responds to  the  rule,  for  it  is  this — You  do  not  belong  to 
one  another  ;  you  are  not  one  another's  lords.  Nay,  for  that 
matter,  you  do  not  belong  to  yourselves  ;  you  are  not  your 
own  lords.  One  is  your  lord,  to  whom  alone  you  all  belong. 
It  is  Christ,  who,  that  he  might  be  your  Lord,  both  died  and 
rose  again. 

Thus  far  the  argument  tells  for  its  being  the  more  re- 
stricted lordship  that  is  meant.  But  here  a  new  question 
may  occur.  Why  is  there  any  mention  made  of  the  dead  1 
Wliy  is  the  alternative  or  cumulative  idea  of  the  dead  as 
distinct  from  the  living  introduced  1  The  argument  does  not 
seem  to  require  this.  It  is  the  living  only  who  are  or  can 
be  concerned  about  the  rule.  It  should  be  enough  if  the 
reason  applied  to  them  and  embraced  them  alone.  What 
have  the  dead  to  do  with  this  lesson,  with  the  rule,  or  with 
its  reason  ?  One  answer  to  this  question  may  be  that  the 
phrase  is  simply  meant  to  intensify  the  thought  of  Christ's 
lordship  as  being  very  complete  and  thorough ;  absolutely  per- 


CHRIST'S  LORDSHIP  OVER  THE  DEAD  AND  LIVING.       269 

feet;  embraciug  your  whole  being.  But  may  not  this  be 
another  answer  ?  The  living,  who  have  to  do  with  the  rule 
and  the  reason  for  it,  are  soon  to  be  themselves  the  dead. 
You  who  are  now  living  are  to  look  at  the  point  in  dispute 
in  the  light  in  which  it  will  appear  to  you  when  you  come 
to  die,  when  you  are  dead.  You  no  more  live  to  yourselves 
than  you  die  to  yourselves.  You  live  unto  the  Lord  as  truly 
as  you  die  unto  the  Lord.  Living,  you  are  the  Lord's,  as 
much  as  you  are  so  when  dying  or  dead.  You  have  as  little 
right  to  set  up  for  yourselves  in  this  matter  of  judging  for 
one  another,  or  judging  one  another,  now  when  you  are  living, 
as  you  will  have  when  you  are  dead.  You  are  equally 
amenable  to  the  Lord  now  as  then.  You  live  to  him  as 
thoroughly  as  you  die  to  him.  Living  you  are  his  as  abso- 
lutely as  when  you  die  or  are  dead.  For  "  to  this  end 
Christ  both  died  and  rose,  that  he  might  be  Lord  both  of 
the  dead  and  living." 

You  are  thus  led  to  see,  as  regards  all  these  questions,  the 
present  in  the  future  ;  to  consider  what  you  now  are,  to 
one  another,  to  yourselves,  to  the  Lord,  in  the  view  of 
what  you  will  be,  and  will  apprehend  yourselves  to  be,  when 
you  die,  when  you  are  dead.  How  would  a  departed  saint, 
one  of  the  pious  dead,  a  believer  gone  hence, — how  would 
such  a  one  think,  and  feel,  and  act  with  reference  to  what  is 
now  at  issue  and  in  discussion  among  you  ?  Put  yourself, 
I  say  to  each  one  among  you,  in  the  position  of  suck  a  one  ; 
suppose  yourself,  from  that  heavenly  world  of  the  dead, 
to  be  contemplating  this  earthly  world  of  the  living,  and 
looking  into  the  question  upon  which  you  are  now  pronouncing 
so  decided,  and  perhaps  so  censorious,  a  judgment.  I  do 
not  ask  if  it  appears  as  important  as  before.  Hut  I  ask  if 
you  can  take  the  same  attitude  in  regard  to  it  that  you 
scrupled  not  to  take  before.  "Will  you  venture,  as  a  denizen 
of  the  upper  sanctuary,  to  be  as  dictatorial,  as  magisterial, 


270       CHRIST'S  LOKDSHIP  OVER  THE  DEAD  AND  LIVING. 

as  judicial,  as  you  are  tempted  to  Le  in  the  lower  region  of 
the  church's  present  habitation  ?  A¥ill  you  take  as  much 
upon  you,  and  give  yourself  so  confident  an  air,  and  pro- 
nounce as  dogmatically  upon  your  fellows,  then  as  now  ? 
Will  not  you  feel  yourself  to  be  less,  and  Christ  to  be  more  ; 
yourself  to  be  nothing,  and  Christ  to  be  all  in  all  1  Dead, 
you  will  thus  own  his  lordship  ;  living,  own  it  all  the  same. 

Here,  then,  is  a  practical  question.  Do  I  own  Christ  as 
Lord  both  of  the  dead  and  living  1  Is  he  as  much  my  Lord 
now,  while  I  am  living,  as  he  will  be  when  I  die  1  Of 
course  he  is  so,  in  fact.  But  is  he  so,  in  resj)ect  of  my 
realisation  of  the  fact,  and  my  acting  of  it  out  1 

Have  you  ever  tried  to  imagine  how  Christ  will  be  Lord 
of  all  the  dead  at  last ;  how  he  is  Lord  of  the  dead  now  ? 
I  mean  the  pious  dead,  yonder  comjjany  of  the  church's 
worthies  ;  the  men  of  whom  the  Avorld  was  not  worthy. 
How  do  they  know  and  acknowledge  Christ's  lordship  over 
them  ?  what  is  their  manner  of  life  under  it  ?  I  cannot 
say,  it  must  be  left  to  each  one  of  you  to  work  out  the  ques- 
tion. The  text  throws  little  or  no  light  on  it,  not  at  least 
directly.  More  may  come  out  as  we  proceed.  Meanwhile, 
the  principle  seems  to  be  clearly  established,  that  the  lordship 
asserted  on  behalf  of  Christ  is  a  lordship  over  his  people  ; 
and  such  a  lordship  over  them  living,  as  has  its  type,  one 
may  say,  as  well  as  its  consummation,  in  his  lordship  over 
them  when  dead.  "  He  is  Lord  both  of  the  dead  and 
living." 

II.  The  connection  between  this  lordship  of  Christ  and 
his  death  and  resurrection  is  very  close.  "  To  this  end 
Christ  both  died,  and  rose,  and  revived,  that  he  might  be  Lord 
both  of  the  dead  and  living."  It  was  "  the  joy  set  before 
him,  for  which  he  endured  the  cross,  despising  the  shame, 
and  is  set  down  at  the  ridit  hand  of  the  throne  of  God." 


chiust's  lordship  over  the  dead  and  living.      271 

It  is  the  appropriate  recompense  of  reward,  the  natural  fruit 
and  issue,  the  legitimate  consequence  and  crowning  result,  of 
his  dying  and  rising  again,  that  he  is  Christ  and  Lord. 

It  is  so  in  many  views  and  on  many  accounts.  Eut  there 
is  one  fact  or  principle  which  may  serve  comprehensively  to 
bring  out  its  true  ground  or  rationale.  That  fact  or  prin- 
ciple is  the  oneness,  the  identity,  in  respect  of  law  as  well  as 
of  nature,  between  Christ  and  his  people.  For  you  must 
consider  in  what  character  Christ  died  and  rose  again.  He 
was  not  an  isolated  private  individual,  acting  or  transacting 
with  the  Father,  in  that  great  trial,  for  himself  alone.  He 
bore  a  rej^resentative  character.  He  had  gathered  up  in  his 
one  single  person  all  the  interests  of  all  his  people.  He  was 
theirs,  in  tliat  day,  and  they  were  his  ;  he  their  proxy, 
surety,  substitute  ;  they  his  property,  his  members,  part  and 
l^arcel  of  himself.  Lordship  over  them,  in  the  sense  of  ab- 
solute proprietorship,  or  right  of  ownership,  in  them  ;  lord- 
ship over  them,  as  of  a  man  over  his  own  body ;  is  really 
involved,  as  already  constituted,  in  his  dying  and  rising 
again.  He  has  them  as  much  his,  as  he  has  his  own  body, 
his  OAvn  person  ;  as  much  his,  to  be  at  his  disposal,  in  his 
keeping,  under  his  hand.  This  is  at  least  lordship  begun  ; 
lordship  in  the  germ  or  bud. 

Look  at  it  for  a  little.  Look,  in  this  point  of  view,  on 
Christ  dying  and  rising  again.  There  is  not  much  of  appa- 
rent lordship  of  any  kind  here  at  all.  In  his  dying  and  rising 
again,  he  appears  rather  as  passive  than  as  active  ;  acted 
upon  rather  than  acting.  Or,  in  so  far  as  he  acts,  his  action 
is  the  voluntary  surrender  of  himself  to  be  dealt  with  by  the 
Father  judicially,  first  in  the  way  of  subjection  to  death,  the 
wages  of  sin,  and  then  in  the  way  of  justification,  or  resur- 
rection to  life,  the  reward  of  righteousness.  He  consents,  in 
dying,  to  be  treated  by  the  righteous  Father  as  guilty,  suffer- 
ing the  doom  of  guilt,  and  in  rising  again  to  be  treated  by 


272       CHRIST'S  LORDSHIP  OVER  THE  DEAD  AND  LIVING. 

the  righteous  Father  as  righteous  ;  and  justified  and  recom- 
pensed accordingly.  He  is  servant,  as  it  might  seem,  and 
not  Lord,  in  the  whole  of  that  wondrous  transaction  of  law 
and  justice  between  the  Father  and  him.  In  his  death  he 
says,  "  Mine  ears  hast  thou  bored;  I  am  thy  servant."  In  his 
resurrection  the  Father  says,  "Thou  art  a  priest  for  ever, 
after  the  order  of  Melchisedec."  Thus,  dying  and  rising 
again,  he  stands  forth  as  not  Lord,  but  servant,  servant  all 
through.  And  it  is  through  this  service  that  he  reaches  his 
lordship.  And  the  lordship  answers  to  the  service  in  all 
respects.     Mark  well  the  correspondence. 

The  persons  interested  are  the  same.  His  death  and 
resurrection,  in  order  to  his  lordship,  must  have  reference  to 
aU  over  whom  his  lordship  extends,  and  to  none  else.  He 
died  and  rose  for  this  end,  that,  in  virtue  of  his  dying  and 
rising,  he  might  be  Lord  both  of  the  dead  and  living.  It 
is  not,  however,  all  the  dead  and  living  that  are  here  meant. 
It  is  not  mankind  universally  and  indiscriminately.  He  is, 
no  doubt.  Lord  over  all  mankind,  as  he  is  head  over  all  things 
to  the  church,  which  is  his  body.  And  tliat  lordship  or 
high  priesthood  is  no  doubt  connected  with  his  dying  and 
rising  again.  But  that  is  not  the  lordship  here  asserted. 
What  is  asserted  is  a  lordship  which,  whatever  it  may  have 
in  common  with  the  other,  is  in  itself  peculiar.  It  is  lord- 
ship such  as  true  believers  alone  can  acknowledge.  For  they 
alone  can  acknowledge  it  as  a  lordship  founded  on  the 
Lord's  dying  and  rising  again.  They  may  not  be  more 
thoroughly  and  absolutely  in  his  hands,  as  mediatorial  Lord, 
than  all  the  rest  of  the  human  race  are,  or  than  all  creation 
is.  And  in  both  cases  his  mediatorial  lordship  is  the  fruit 
of  his  dying  and  rising. 

But,  in  the  first  place,  there  is  intelligence  and  consent 
in  the  one  case  that  we  cannot  find  in  the  other.  Christ 
dying  and  rising  again  is  Lord  of  me  ;  Lord  of  me  even  if  I 


CimiST'S  LORDSHIP  OVER  THE  DEAD  AND  LIVING.         273 

am  living  and  dying  in  unbelief.  He  is  so  in  spite  of  me, 
whether  I  understand  or  not,  whether  I  will  it  or  not.  But 
I  believe,  he  himself  helping  my  unbelief  And  now  he  is 
Lord  of  me,  with  my  full  intelligence  and  most  cordial 
consent. 

Then,  secondly,  there  is  a  real  distinction,  as  regards  the 
dependence  of  Christ's  lordship,  in  his  dying  and  rising 
again,  between  the  two  cases.  It  is  not  merely  that  men 
generally  do  not  apprehend  the  thing  as  believing  men  appre- 
hend it.  But  in  the  thing  itself  there  is  a  difference.  It  is 
all-important  to  note  and  understand  the  difference,  especially 
the  apostle's  practical  point  of  view.  Christ's  general  lord- 
ship over  all,  considered  as  the  result  and  reward  of  his  con- 
senting to  die  and  to  be  raised  from  the  dead,  is  a  very  great 
and  a  very  solemn  fact.  It  should  strike  terror  into  every 
bosom.  He  is  Lord  of  thee,  0  sinner.  He  is  Lord  of 
thee  by  right  of  his  dying  and  rising  again  ;  so  dying  and 
rising  again  that  thou  mayest  have  him,  if  thou  wilt,  all  sin- 
ful as  thou  art,  to  be  Lord  of  thee  for  thy  salvation,  but  yet, 
oh  !  lay  it  to  heart,  so  dying  and  rising  again  that  he  is  Lord 
of  thee  anyhow ;  Lord  of  thee  living  and  dead  ;  Lord  of  thee 
for  ever. 

But,  after  all,  this  lordship  is  rather  a  necessary  accom- 
paniment or  consequence  of  Christ's  dying  and  rising  again, 
than  a  proper  fruit  or  natural  issue  of  it.     It  is  indispen- 
sable to  the  accomplishment  of  the  end  for  which  he  died 
and  rose  again,  that  he  should  have  as  part  of  his  recompense 
this  wide  prerogative  of  universal  lordship.     But  the  end 
itself,  the  joy  set  before  him,  was  surely  a  lordship  more 
pecuhar  and  more  precious.    "  Father,  glorify  thy  Son.    Thou 
hast  given  him  power  over  all   flesh,  that  he  should   give 
eternal  life  to  as  many  as  thou  hast  given  him."    Here  is  uni- 
versal, with  a  view  to  limited  lordship,  power  over  all  flesh, 
in  order  to  the  giving  of  eternal  life  to  as  many  as  the  Father 

T 


274     chkist's  lokdship  ovei^  the  dead  and  living. 

hath  given  him.  And  it  is  all  based  on  his  dying  and  rising 
again  ;  on  his  finished  and  accepted  work.  "  I  have  glorified 
thee  on  the  earth :  I  have  finished  the  work  which  thou 
gavest  me  to  do."  Thns  clearly  is  it  manifest  that  the 
persons  savingly  interested  in  the  Mediator's  service  of 
dying  and  rising  again  are  the  only  persons  over  whom  his 
lordship  is  here  claimed,  or  asserted  as  the  direct  fruit  and 
proper  issue  of  his  death  and  resurrection  ;  the  real  end  with 
a  view  to  which  he  both  died,  and  rose,  and  revived. 

Not  only  are  the  parties  interested  the  same,  but 
there  must  be  harmony  or  correspondence  between  the  lord- 
ship itself  and  that  on  which  it  rests,  and  from  which  it 
flows. 

It  rests  on  service  and  flows  from  service.  And  the 
service  is  the  service  of  sacrifice.  He  died  and  rose  as  a 
servant ;  as  a  servant  rendering  the  service  of  sacrifice. 
And  if  he  died  and  rose  in  that  character  and  capacity, 
the  lordship,  with  a  view  to  which  he  died  and  rose,  must 
have  in  it  still  that  quality  or  condition.  He  died  and 
rose  that  he  might  be  Lord  of  those  whom  his  service  of 
dying  and  rising  really  concerns ;  Lord  of  them,  whether 
dead  or  living.  But  he  died  and  rose,  not  that  he  might  be 
different  as  Lord  from  what  he  was  as  dying  and  rising. 
No.  He  is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever.  It 
would  seem,  therefore,  that  his  lordship  must  be,  "as  regards 
them,  in  some  sense  a  continuation  of  his  service.  It  must 
retain  the  spirit  as  well  as  accept  the  fruit  of  the  service. 
Christ,  as  his  people's  Lord,  cannot  be  to  them  different  from 
what  he  was  when  as  the  Father's  servant  on  their  behalf  he 
died  and  rose. 

For  pre-eminently  in  his  case  we  must  beware  of  com- 
mitting the  error  into  which  we  are  too  apt  to  fall,  with 
reference  to  ourselves  and  others,  in  our  conceptions  of  the- 
unseen  state  after  death ;  the  error  I  mean  of  fancying  that 


CHRIST'S  LORDSHIP  OVER  THE  DEAD  AND  LIVING.       275 

in  the  mere  passing  from  the  temporal  to  the  eternal  -world 
there  is  a  break,  a  blank,  a  breach  of  the  continuity  of  the 
line  of  conscious  existence  ;  so  that  the  immortal  spirit  may 
be  ushered  into  that  other  sphere,  under  different  auspices 
from  those  which  mark  its  departure  hence ;  and  may  begin 
its  life  anew  upon  a  new  footing.  It  is  a  grievous  and 
dangerous  error,  when  we  suffer  it  to  influence  our  dealings 
either  witli  ourselves  or  with  our  friends.  It  is  not  to  be 
tolerated,  nor  anything  like  it,  when  it  is  Christ  that  is 
concerned ;  especially  Avhen  it  is  his  relation  to  his  people 
that  is  in  question.  He  is  the  same,  yesterday,  to-day,  and 
for  ever. 

Thus,  carrying  back  the  lonlship  into  the  dying  and 
rising,  we  may  see,  even  in  the  humiliation,  the  real  glory  of 
the  exaltation. 

He  is  Lord,  when  he  dies  and  rises  and  lives  ;  Lord, 
in  their  life  and  in  their  death,  of  those  for  whom  he  dies 
and  rises  and  lives.  It  is  as  tluas  fully,  in  that  sense  and  to 
that  effect,  Lord  of  them,  that  he  dies  and  rises  and  lives  for 
them.  True,  his  dying  and  living  again  is,  in  respect  of 
causal  order,  the  prior  condition  of  his  being  Lord.  Still, 
in  his  very  dying  and  living  again,  he  is  Lord,  Lord  of  those 
for  whom  he  dies  and  lives  again.  His  dying  and  living 
again  is  a  lordly  act  as  respects  them  ;  a  right  lordly  act,  not 
in  its  issue  only,  but  in  itself  It  is  as  Lord  of  them,  living 
and  dying,  that  he  dies  for  them  and  lives  again.  Nor  is  it 
merely  in  the  way  of  anticipation,  or  in  respect  merely  of  an 
infallible  fore-ordaining  decree  giving  them  to  him  in 
covenant  from  the  beginning,  that  he  is  their  Lord  in  his 
dying  and  living  again.  His  lordship  over  them,  in  his 
dying  and  living  again  for  them,  is  not  prospective  merely, 
but  present.  Not  merely  after,  but  in  his  dying  and  living 
again,  he  is  their  Lord.  His  dying  and  living  again  is  in 
itself  an  act  or  exercise  of  lordship  over  them.      He  not 


276      cheist's  lordship  over  the  dead  and  living. 

merely  purchases,  he  asserts  and  vindicates  his  lordship 
over  them,  when  he  dies  to  redeem  them  to  himself  as  his 
own  with  his  precious  hlood,  and  lives  again  to  present  them 
as  his  own  to  the  Father,  saying,  Behold  I  and  the  little  ones 
whom  thou  hast  given  me. 

It  is  seen  to  be  so,  if  his  cross,  as  the  crisis  of  his 
humiliation  j)reparatory  to  his  glory,  is  rightly  and  spiritually 
contemplated.  Doubtless,  there  is  in  that  cross  much  that 
is  significant  of  anything  rather  than  lordship ;  ignominy 
and  shame,  passive  helplessness  and  weakness,  and  to  a 
deeper  insight,  service  ending  in  sacrifice,  the  submission  of 
the  victim  bowing  his  head  to  the  stroke  of  justice,  the  very 
opposite,  as  it  might  seem,  of  anything  like  lordly  power. 
But  it  must  have  been  a  lordly  port,  a  right  lordly  bearing, 
that  won  from  the  Eoman  soldier  the  exclamation,  "  Truly 
this  was  the  Son  of  God."  And  it  was  a  clearer  and  more 
spiritual  view  of  the  royal  majesty  of  the  sufferer,  in  his  very 
suffering,  that  prompted  the  dying  prayer,  "  Lord,  remember 
me  when  thou  comest  into  thy  kingdom." 

Might  Ave  not  with  advantage  dAvell  more  than  we  do  in 
this  aspect  of  the  lordship  of  Christ,  over  us  personally  as 
not  merely  flowing  from  bis  redeeming  work  for  us,  in  the 
way  of  natural  consequence  and  appropriate  reward,  but  as 
really  forming  part  of  it  and  entering  into  it  as  an  essential 
element  and  living  principle  of  power.  May  we  not  be  apt 
to  look  on  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord,  dying  on  the  cross  and 
rising  again,  rather  as  a  deliverer  provided  for  us  than  as  a 
ruler  and  lord  appointed  over  us  1  Do  we  not  dwell  more 
on  his  service  and  sacrifice  for  us  than  on  his  lordship  over 
us,  or  separate  the  one  from  the  other  in  our  thoughts  ? 
May  it  not  be  good  to  contemplate  the  one  great  transaction 
of  his  death  and  resurrection  more  than  we  do,  not  merely  as 
a  work  undertaken  and  accomplished  for  our  sakes  and  on 
our  behalf,  but  as  in  itself,  in  its  very  nature,  an  assertion 


CHRIST'S  LORDSHIP  OVER  THE  DEAD  AND  LIVING.       277 

and  recovery  of  his  dominion  over  us,  as  Lord  both  of  the 
dead  and  living  1 

Then,  carrying  forward,  as  it  M'ere,  the  death  and  resur- 
rection into  the  lordship  consequent  thereon,  we  may  rever- 
ently, I  think,  trace  a  certain  savour  or  influence  from  the 
one,  modifying  the  character  and  manner  of  exercise  of  the 
other. 

Thus  the  character  of  the  lordship  may  he  regarded  as 
affected  by  the  preliminary  experience  of  him  who  wields  it. 
For  that  experience  is  not  like  an  ordinary  fact  in  history,  a 
stepping-stone  merely,  in  the  order  of  cause  and  effect,  to 
something  beyond  itself,  which  may  be  quite  detached  and 
distinct  in  nature  from  itself  Neither  is  it  a  mere  condition, 
which,  Avhen  once  fulfilled,  may  be  lost  sight  of  in  the  view 
of  what  its  fulfilment  obtains  for  the  fulfiller  of  it.  It  enters 
into  the  very  heart  of  the  lordship,  even  as  it  abides  and  be- 
cause it  abides  ever  in  the  heart  of  him  whose  lordship  it  is. 
And  it  does  so  in  a  way  implying  something  more  than  the 
Lord's  recollection  or  reminiscence  of  it,  though  that  is  much. 
For  these  are  precious  words  that  can  never  lose  their  power 
and  pathos — "  He  still  remembers  in  the  skies  his  tears,  his 
agonies,  and  cries."  It  is  a  fresh,  constant,  living  element  in 
the  lordship  itself;  making  it  a  lordship  of  a  very  peculiar 
type,  altogether  singular  and  unique.  It  may  be  difficult  to 
grasp  it  in  logical  thought,  or  fix  it  in  a  formal  definition. 
But,  if  I  mistake  not,  the  believing  heart  knows  something, 
or  perhaps  rather  feels  something,  of  what  it  is. 

There  is  such  a  thing  as  a  lordship  of  pure  and  simple 
sovereignty,  which  may  be  conceived  of  as  vested  in  one 
sitting  aloft  on  a  throne  of  unapproachable  majesty.  To 
such  a  lordship  these  words  of  the  Psalmist  may  apply — 
"  Thou  art  my  Lord  ;  my  goodness  extendeth  not  to  thee." 
There  may  be  also  such  a  thing  as  a  lordship  more  familiar  ; 
coming  down,  as  it  were,  nearer  the  level  of  one  subject  to 


278        CHRIST'S  LOEDSHIP  OVER  THE  DEAD  AND  LIVING. 

it,  and  partaking,  perhaps,  more  of  the  nature  of  friendly- 
oversight  than  of  the  nature  of  strict  dominion  or  authority. 
But  such  ideas,  even  if  we  could  realise  them  in  combination, 
do  not  adequately  describe  the  lordship  of  Christ,  so  as  to 
satisfy  the  loyal  souls  of  his  redeemed.  They  see  always  in 
the  living  Lord  the  dying,  bleeding  Lamb.  It  is  the  Lamb 
who  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  ;  and  he  is  there  as  the 
Lamb  slain  ;  of  the  very  same  frame  of  mind  still ;  having 
at  heart  the  very  same  objects  ;  feeling  still  as  he  has  ever 
felt  ;  acting  still  as  he  has  ever  acted  ;  sustaining  still  the 
very  selfsame  relations  he  has  ever  sustained  to  his  Father  and 
to  his  people  ;  discharging  the  selfsame  offices  ;  doing  the  self- 
same work. 

Hence,  in  the  manner  of  its  exercise,  as  well  as  in  its 
essential  character,  the  lordship  of  Christ  is  peculiar ;  being 
affected  by  the  previous  preliminary  experience,  which  is 
prolonged,  as  it  were,  and  enters  into  it.  The  spirit  of  the 
lordship,  being  identical  with  the  spirit  of  that  antecedent 
service  of  sacrifice,  must  control  the  manner  in  which  it  is 
carried  out. 

In  particular  it  must  determine  and  direct  it  as  a  lordship 
running  in  the  line  of  highest  law  and  deepest  love.  For  in 
his  dying  and  rising  these  two  elements  meet  ;  highest  law 
and  deepest  love  ;  law  magnified  and  made  honourable  by 
such  a  tribute  of  obedience  to  its  holy  command  and  endur- 
ance of  its  just  judgment  as  only  he  could  render  who  is  at 
once  the  Father's  fellow  and  the  Father's  willing  subject,  and 
love  more  profound  in  the  terrible  sacrifice  by  which  it  purged 
guilt  and  prevailed  over  death,  than  a  whole  eternity  of  bounty 
to  the  sinless  could  have  displayed  or  proved.  And  it  is  as 
thus  dying  and  rising,  in  a  sense,  evermore,  that  he  is  Lord 
of  me  ;  Lord  of  me  to  cause  that  very  law  and  that  very  love 
to  meet  in  my  heart  as  truly  as  they  meet  in  that  great  heart 
of  his  which  broke  to  make  them  one  on  Calvary. 


CHRIST'S  LORDSHIP  OVER  THE  DEAD  AXD  LIVING,       279 

The  thought  of  lordship  exercised  after  a  fashion  such 
as  that  might  aa'cII  appal  me,  lawless  and  unloving  as  I  am, 
were  it  not  for  tliis  very  consideration,  that  it  is  lordship  full 
fraught,  and  all-pervaded  with  the  sense  and  savour  of  these 
dread  realities,  the  dying  and  the  rising.  They  are  realities 
to  him  and  in  him  now  ;  now  as  much  as  ever.  As  my 
Lord,  by  the  power  of  his  Spirit  he  makes  them  realities  to 
me  and  in  me,  as  thoroughly  so,  as  they  were  and  are  realities 
to  him  and  in  him.  He  subdues  me  by  uniting  me  to  him- 
self ;  to  himself  dying,  I  am  crucified  with  him ;  to  himself 
living,  he  liveth  in  me  ;  to  himself  as  my  Lord,  in  terms  of 
law  graciously  fulfilled  and  love  righteously  triumphant. 

III.  In  the  light  of  its  connection  with  his  dying  and 
rising,  let  us  now  look  at  the  lordship  of  Christ  more  practi- 
cally, in  its  bearing  upon  those  over  whom  it  is  exercised  ;  the 
dead  ;  the  living  ;  of  his  own  people  first ;  and  then,  all  else. 

As  dying  and  rising,  he  is  Lord  of  the  dead  ;  of  his 
own  dead.  He  is  their  Lord  in  the  very  article  and  agony 
of  their  death  ;  giving  them  victory  in  the  very  moment  of 
death  ;  taking  from  death  his  sting ;  and  taking  it  from  him 
precisely  when  he  can  urge  it  home  most  vehemently ;  on  a 
deathbed ;  Avhere  the  sense  of  sin  is  apt  to  be  keenest.  As 
their  Lord,  dying  and  rising,  he  gives  them  grace  and  strength 
to  utter  the  challenge,  "  0  death,  where  is  thy  sting  ?  0 
grave,  where  is  thy  victory?" 

Then,  as  their  Lord,  their  Lord  in  virtue  of  his  dying 
and  rising,  he  receives  them  to  himself  They  depart  to  be 
with  him  ;  absent  from  the  body,  present  with  the  Lord  ; 
with  the  Lord  as  dying  and  rising  ;  claiming  to  be  their 
Lord  on  the  gi-ound  of  his  dying  and  rising  ;  and  on  the 
groun<l  of  that  as  not  a  past  event  in  history,  but  a  present 
and  eternal  reality.  They  pass  into  the  arms  of  one  who  is 
their  Lord  ;  their  Lord  evermore,  as  dying  and  rising. 


280        CHRIST'S  LORDSHIP  OVER  THE  DEAD  AND  LIVIXG. 

What  it  is  for  them  to  be  with  him  and  uuder  him  as 
their  Lord  now,  their  Lord  now  always  on  such  a  footing  as 
that,  who  can  tell?  Perfect  rest,  unhroken  repose,  may 
well  be  theirs.  Away  from  all  that  might  suggest  any  idea 
of  insurrection  or  insubordination,  clasped  to  the  bosom  of 
one  who  claims  them  as  his  subjects  on  the  ground  of  his 
having  made  common  cause  with  them  as  their  brother, 
dying  and  rising ;  nay,  who  claims  them  in  virtue  of  his 
still  virtually  in  a  sense  dying  and  rising  evermore  afresh  as 
their  brother  and  their  Lord.  What  peace  may  be  their 
portion  ;  peace  in  having  him  as  their  Lord ;  their  Lord 
upon  the  footing  of  an  unchallenged  and  consummated  re- 
demption ;  through  his  dying  and  rising ! 

But  his  lordship  over  the  dead  is  not  yet  complete.  It 
reaches  to  the  deliverance  of  their  mortal  bodies  from  the 
power  of  the  grave.  As  their  Lord  he  bids  the  sea  give  up 
its  dead,  and  the  gaping  earth  surrender  its  prey.  As  their 
Lord  he  changes  their  mortal  bodies,  that  they  may  be 
fashioned  like  unto  his  own  glorious  body ;  his  body  glori- 
fied, and  become  a  spiritual  body,  in  virtue  of  his  dying  and 
rising.  So  they  bear  the  image  of  their  heavenly  Lord. 
And  ever  thereafter,  as  their  Lord,  inweaving  into  his  lord- 
ship his  dying  and  rising,  he  leads  them  among  the  many 
mansions  of  his  Father's  house,  and  finds  them,  as  he  rules 
them,  congenial  subjects.  'No  idea  of  independence  is  in 
their  bosoms  ;  no  thought  of  any  right  to  consult  and  act  for 
themselves,  or  to  coerce  and  judge  one  another.  The  dead, 
of  whom  he  is  then  Lord,  are  revived  and  reawakened  to 
activity.  But  it  is  to  activity  unselfish  and  unsuspicious. 
They  all  serve  the  Lord,  and  neither  serve  nor  judge  one 
another. 

This  perfect  lordship  of  Christ  over  the  dead ;  his 
own  dead;  his  in  virtue  of  his  dying  and  rising;  is  to  be 
apprehended  and  realised  as  in  the  same  sense  and  on  the 


CHRIST'S  LOrtDSHIP  OVER  THE  DEAD  AND  LIVING. .      281 

same  ground  a  lordship  over  the  living ;  his  own  living 
ones  ;  yon  who  live  in  him.  He  is  your  Lord  ;  the  Lord  of 
you  living ;  the  Lord  of  your  life ;  of  the  life  which  you 
have  in  him  as  dying  and  rising.  He  is  the  Lord  of  you 
while  living,  exactly  as  he  is  to  be  the  Lord  of  you  when 
dead.  For  to  this  end  he  both  died,  and  rose,  and  revived, 
not  merely  that  he  might  be  Lord  of  you  when  dead,  in  the 
future  world,  where  his  lordship,  as  it  might  seem,  might  be 
more  readily  owned  and  more  pleasantly  exercised  ;  but  that 
he  might  be  Lord  of  you  Avhile  living ;  as  you  are  now,  and 
where  you  are  now.  It  is  with  his  lordship  over  you  in 
tliat  view  that  you  are  now  practically  concerned.  It  is 
to  be  acknowledged  and  recognised  by  you  now  as  the  very 
same  with  Avhat  it  will  be  to  you  when  you  are  dead  and 
gone. 

You  cannot  indeed  now  take  in,  as  you  may  hope  to  do 
then,  the  full  meaning  of  that  dying  and  rising  on  which  the 
lordship  is  based,  and  with  which  it  is  identified ;  and  there- 
fore you  may  not  be  able  to  perceive  and  realise  all  that  is 
implied  in  your  acknowledgment  and  recognition  of  the 
lordship,  any  more  than  you  can  see  all  the  beauty,  blessed- 
ness, and  glory  of  the  lordship  itself  For  it  is  a  lordship 
which  can  be  fully  understood  and  appreciated  only  "vvhen 
the  dying  and  rising  with  Avhich  it  is  one  are  fully  known. 
That  cannot  be  in  this  life ;  nor  even  all  at  once  in  the  Hfe 
to  come.  For  there  is  in  that  dying  and  rising  a  height  and 
depth,  a  height  of  supremest  reverence  for  law,  and  a  depth 
of  love  reaching  the  lowest  hell,  which  eternity  will  not 
suffice  to  measure.  And  therefore  also  the  lordship,  in  its 
character  and  mode  of  exercise,  will  be  ever  unfolding  itself 
and  making  itself  realised  throughout  the  everlasting  ages. 
Still,  however,  that  does  not  touch  the  identity  of  the  lord- 
ship all  throughout ;  its  being  the  same  now  as  then.  He 
is  Lord,  as  of  the  dead,  so  of  the  living.     He  lords  it  over 


282     .  Christ's  lordship  over  the  dead  and  living. 

you  living,  as  lie  has  ever  lorded  it  over  his  people  dying  and 
dead ;  as  he  will  lord  it  over  you  when  you  die  and  after 
you  are  dead  ;  now,  as  then,  in  virtue  and  in  the  spirit  of  his 
dying  and  rising. 

Surely  it  is  a  blessed  lordship  for  you  now  to  realise  and 
own.  To  think  that  he  is  your  Lord,  as  dying  for  you  and 
rising  again  ;  your  Lord  as  surely  now,  amid  all  changes,  as 
he  will. he  hereafter  in  the  changeless  eternity;  that  he  has 
you  now  in  his  possession,  redeemed  by  his  death,  and  quick- 
ened by  his  life,  as  surely  as  he  has  any  of  his  saints  who 
have"  already  entered  into  his  rest ;  that  you  belong  to  him 
as  your  Lord,  and  are  his  property  Avhile  you  live  now  on 
this  earth,  as  inalienably  as  those  do  who  have  passed  beyond 
all  this  earth's  risks  and  hazards.  Is  not  that  a  source  of 
confidence  alike  in  life  and  in  death  1  And  is  it  not  also  a 
motive  to  most  thorough  self-surrender?  For  indeed  it  is 
only  through  most  complete  and  thorough  self-surrender  that 
this  great  security  of  refuge  in  the  lordship  of  Christ  as  dying 
and  rising  can  be  reached.  How  may  I  assert  and  vindicate 
my  freedom  from  any  who  would  captivate  or  condemn  me, 
any  who  would  rule  or  judge  me  *?  How  but  by  an  unreserved 
appeal  to  Christ  as  my  Lord  ;  lording  it  over  me  as  dying  for 
me,  and  rising  and  living  for  me  1  And  how  may  I  enter 
such  an  appeal  otherwise  than  in  the  attitude  of  one  surren- 
dering all  right  of  rule  and  judgment  in  my  own  person  ; 
judging  no  man,  and  refusing  to  be  judged  by  any  ;  because 
I  know  no  other  judge  or  ruler  but  the  Son  of  the  Highest ; 
who  to  this  end  both  died,  and  rose,  and  revived,  that  he  might 
be  Lord  both  of  the  dead  and  of  the  living.  Ah !  to  know 
him  now  wliile  I  live,  in  that  character  and  in  that  relation 
to  me,  as  thoroughly  and  as  exclusively  as  I  shall  know  him 
hereafter  when  I  am  dead,  if  I  am  really  his  !  Would  that 
this  were  my  highest  ambition,  the  most  intense  and  earnest 
longing  of  my  soul !     Alas !   that  this  should  be  an  attain- 


cheist's  lordship  ovek  the  dead  and  living.      283 

ment  of  which  I  fall  short  so  lamentably.  Lord  Jesus,  come  ; 
work  in  me  by  thy  Spirit,  so  as  to  move  me  to  say — "  The 
life  wliich  I  now  live  in  the  flesh,  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the 
Son  of  God,  who  loved  me  and  gave  himself  for  me."  "To 
me  to  live  is  Christ." 


284  WORK  FOR  THE  LORD  AND 


XVII. 

WOEK  FOE  THE  LOED  AJs^D  WELFAEE  IN 
THE  LOED. 

"  And  the  elders  of  the  Jews  builded,  and  they  prospered  through  the 
prophesying  of  Haggai  the  prophet  and  i  Zechariah  the  son  of 
Iddo.  And  they  builded,  and  finished  it,  according  to  the  com- 
mandment of  the  God  of  Israel,  and  according  to  the  command- 
ment of  Cyrus,  and  Darius,  and  Artaxerxes  king  of  Persia." — 
EzKA  VI.  14.     (Haggai  I.  II.) 

This    is    a    striking    testimony,    on   the    part   of  the   men 

of  work  to  the  men  of  words,  or  the  word.     ''The  elders 

of   the    Jews  builded."      So    the    leader  testifies.      "  And 

they     prospered."        Not,     however,    through     their     own 

building,    though    that    of   course    was    indispensable,    but 

"through    the    prophesying    of   Haggai    the    prophet,    and 

Zechariah  the  son  of  Iddo."     Of  the  two,  the  prophesying 

of  Hacrwai,    being   briefer    and   more    direct    than    that    of 

Zechariah,  may  be  taken  as  the  exponent,  both  of  the  state 

of  mind  among  the  Jews  that  needed  prophetic  ministry, 

and  of  the  sort  of  ministry  provided  for  it,  at  the  crisis  of 

the  return  from  captivity  at   Babylon.     Haggai  has  three 

messages  to    deliver.     The    first,  which   occupies  the   first 

chapter,  bears  the  date  of  the  first  day  of  the  sixth  month  of 

the  second  year  of  the  reign  of  Darius.     The  second,  which 

is  contained  in  the  first  nine  verses  of  the  second  chapter,  is 

dated  the  twenty-first  day  of  the  seventh  month  of  the  same 

year.     And  the  third,  which  closes  the  book,  has  for  its  date, 

twenty-fourth  day  of  the  ninth  month.    The  three  messages  of 


WELFARE  IN  THE  LORD.  285 

Haggai,  which  I  have  to  deal  with,  are  comprised  within  the 
space  of  four  months.  And  these  months  would  seem  to  fit 
into  the  year  of  the  favourable  response  or  rescript  from  the 
Persian  king  Darius,  to  which  Ezra  refers  in  our  text ; 
connecting  it  devoutly  with  the  commandment  of  the  God 
of  Israel.  No  doubt,  Ezra  makes  mention  of  the  prophesying 
of  Haggai  and  Zechariah,  at  an  earlier  stage  (ver.  1),  at  the 
very  beginning  of  Darius'  reign.  But  Haggai's  prophesying 
fits  in  most  naturally  to  the  occasion  of  the  later  notice 
taken  of  it  by  the  historian,  the  liberty  given  to  complete 
the  work.  Upon  this  footing,  let  us  look  at  Haggai's  three 
prophetic  messages. 

I.  The  first  (chap,  i.)  is  not  prophetic  at  all  in  our 
modern  limited  sense  of  what  is  prophecy.  It  contains  no 
prediction.  It  is  simply  a  word  of  admonition.  As  such, 
it  is  in  harmony  witli  what  was  the  chief  function  of  the 
Jewish  prophets ;  Avhose  ofiice  was  really  not  so  much  to 
foretell  future  events,  as  to  bring  to  bear  authoritatively  on 
present  sin  and  duty,  on  the  rebuking  of  present  sin  and  the 
enforcing  of  present  duty,  the  principles  of  the  divine 
government  as  laid  down  by  the  law.  The  special  sin  here 
rebuked  is  that  of  remissness  in  the  present  duty  of  build- 
ing the  Lord's  house,  when  the  opportunity  is  given,  and  all 
things  are  favourable.  Need  we  wonder  at  this  stirring 
appeal  being  found  necessary  ?  Look  at  the  circumstances 
in  which  the  people  are  placed. 

Some  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  have  passed  since  Cynis, 
conquering  the  Babylonians,  had  been  moved  by  God  to 
issue  the  decree  for  the  Jews'  retiu-n  to  their  own  land. 
Immediately  on  their  return,  they  made  it  their  first  care  to 
restore  the  worship  of  the  Lord  God  of  their  fathers.  They 
erected  his  altar,  resumed  the  offering  of  the  appointed  sacri- 
fices, and  kept  the  Eeast  of  Tabernacles  (Ezra  iii.  1-5).    Tliey 

1 


286  WOEK  FOE  THE  LOED  AND 

took  steps  also  for  the  rebuilding  of  the  Temple ;  providing 
men,  money,  and  materials  ;  and  in  the  second  year  after 
their  restoration,  the  goodwork  was  happily  begun  (vers.  6-13). 
Very  soon,  however,  it  was  hindered,  and  at  last  arrested,  by 
the  jealousy  of  envious  neighbours  ;  especially  of  that  mixed 
people,  afterwards  known  as  Samaritans,  who  dwelt  in  the 
country  which  had  belonged  to  the  ten  tribes  (2  Kings  xvii. 
24-41),  immediately  to  the  north  of  Jerusalem.  They  first 
proposed  to  join  with  the  restored  captives  of  Judah  in  their 
holy  undertaking  (Ezra  iv.  1-3),  urging  the  plea,  "  Let  us 
build  with  you,  for  we  seek  your  God  as  ye  do,  and  we  do 
sacrifice  to  him."  Their  proposal  was  declined,  as  was  their 
religion,  however  afterwards  purified,  was  still  of  a  very 
motley  character  (2  Kings  xvii.  33),  and  they  were  them- 
selves as  much  heathen  as  Israelitish,  or  rather  far  more  : 
on  this  they  were  not  unnaturally  irritated  and  indignant. 
They  could  not  take  any  direct  and  open  measures  to  arrest 
the  work  on  the  spot.  But  by  their  influence  at  the  Persian 
court  they  succeeded  in  so  alarming  the  king,  whose  subjects 
they  as  well  as  the  restored  Jews  were,  that  he  issued 
a  decree  against  the  work.  It  had  been  going  on  slowly  for 
some  years,  in  consequence  of  these  hostile  movements. 
And  now,  for  two  years,  it  ceased  altogether. 

So  matters  stood  at  the  accession  of  Darius  to  the  throne 
of  Persia.  That  event,  as  it  would  seem,  was  regarded  by 
the  prophets  and  princes  of  Judea  as  a  fitting  occasion  for 
resuming  the  work.  They  may  have  thought  that  the  new 
monarch,  whose  mind  had  not  been  poisoned  by  the  malicious 
representations  of  their  enemies,  might  be  inclined  rather  to 
follow  out  the  earlier  and  better  policy  of  the  great  Cyrus, 
than  to  imitate  the  later  and  more  cowardly  tyranny  of  his 
successor.  And  they  may  have  considered  it  a  good 
opportunity  for  testing  anew  the  spirit  and  the  power  of  their 
adversaries. 


WELFARE  IN  THE  LORD.  287 

Accordingly,  knowing  perhaps  that  they  had  friends  at 
court,  such  as  Ezra  himself,  on  whose  influence  they  might 
rely,  the  prophets  and  princes,  without  waiting  for  any 
express  sanction,  took  the  matter  into  their  own  hands,  and 
under  their  auspices,  the  people  began  again  to  build  (Ezra 
V.  1-2).  But  their  jealoiTS  rivals  were  on  the  watch  and  on 
the  alert.  They  moved  the  provincial  governor  to  interfere 
(ver.  3).  He,  being  either  more  favourable,  or  at  least  more 
impartial,  than  those  Avho  had  formerly  arrested  the  work, 
listened  to  the  answer  which  the  Jews,  pleading  the  decree  of 
Cyrus,  made  to  his  inquiries ;  transmitted  that  answer  to 
his  master  Darius,  and  determined  to  await  his  decision  ; 
meanwhile  allowing  the  building  to  go  on  (Ezra  v.  3-17). 
The  decision  of  Darius,  after  searching  the  records,  was 
to  abide  by  the  original  decree  of  his  predecessor  Cyrus. 
So  then  was  secured  to  the  Jews  full  liberty  to  carry  on 
their  sacred  work  ;  none  of  their  adversaries  daring,  at 
least  openly,  to  make  them  afraid. 

But  of  this  favourable  interposition,  the  people,  as  it 
would  seem,  were  not  so  ready  as  might  have  been  expected 
to  take  advantage.  From  whatever  cause ;  the  long  delay, 
the  frequent  interruptions,  the  still  remaining  discourage- 
ments ;  their  first  love  and  zeal  had  begun  to  cool.  In  these 
circumstances,  the  prophet  liaggai  is  sent  to  arouse  them. 
And  he  does  so  very  faithfully  and  very  pointedly.  Their 
excuse  is  somewhat  plausible  :  "  The  time  is  not  come ; 
the  time  that  the  Lord's  house  should  be  built "  (Hag.  i.  2). 
Things  are  still  too  unsettled.  The  rage  of  our  foes  still 
secretly  burns ;  their  Aviles  are  as  unscrupulous  as  ever. 
Their  influence  at  head-quarters  is  great.  Then  the  king's 
patronage  of  us  is  but  of  yesterday  ;  and  therefore  doubtful 
and  precarious.  Had  we  not  better  wait  a  little  till  we  see 
how  things  turn  out  1  Had  we  not  better,  for  the  present, 
proceed  cautiously  ;  giving  ourselves  to  such  work  as  will 


288  WOEK  FOE  THE  LOED  AXD 

attract  less  notice  and  give  less  offence,  the  providing  of  what 
all  must  acknowledge  to  be  necessary  for  our  own  accom- 
modation ?  By  and  by,  when  peace  is  more  secure,  and  we 
have  more  leisure  and  more  means,  we  will  gladly  resume 
the  Lord's  work,  and  set  about  it  in  right  earnest.  But  the 
time  is  not  yet. 

The  prophet  has  no  patience  with  so  hollow  and  so 
shallow  an  apology.  Indignantly  he  retorts  upon  them  in 
the  Lord's  name  :  "  Is  it  time  for  you,  0  ye,  to  dwell  in 
your  ceiled  houses,  and  this  house  lie  waste  1 "  (ver.  4).  And 
he  adds,  in  the  same  name,  the  exhortation,  "  Consider  your 
ways  "  (ver.  5).  Set  your  heart  on  observing  your  miserably 
selfish  policy  and  its  miserable  fruit.  Tou  have  been  con- 
sulting for  yourselves,  your  own  ease  and  splendour,  instead 
of  having  pity  on  the  Lord's  house  lying  waste  !  With  what 
profit  ?  To  what  issue  ?  How  sadl^  have  you  failed  in 
securing  your  own  selfish  object !  You  have  been  visited 
with  bhght,  famine,  and  disease.  Your  much  sowing  has 
yielded  little  reaping.  Your  meat  has  not  been  nourishing 
to  you ;  nor  your  drink  refreshing ;  nor  your  clothing  warm ; 
nor  your  gains  enriching.  That  has  been  the  effect.  And 
what  the  cause  ?  "  Ye  looked  for  much,  and  lo  !  it  came  to 
Little  ;  and  Avhen  ye  brought  it  home,  I  did  blow  upon  it. 
A^^ly  1  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts.  Because  of  mine  house 
which  is  waste,  and  ye  run  every  man  to  his  own  house  " 
(ver.  9).  But  now  consider  your  ways.  It  is  not  yet  too 
late.  "  Go  up  to  the  mountain,  and  bring  wood,  and  build 
the  house  ;  and  I  will  take  pleasure  in  it ;  and  I  will  be 
glorified,  saith  the  Lord  "  (ver.  8). 

The  prophet's  warning  is  not  in  vain.  The  rulers,  priests, 
and  people  "  obey  the  voice  of  the  Lord  their  God  and  the 
words  of  Haggai  the  prophet  (as  the  Lord  their  God  had 
sent  him)  ;  and  the  people  feared  before  the  Lord  "  (ver.  12). 
Their  penitential  compliance  is  at  once  graciously  accepted. 


WELFARE  IN  THE  LORD.  289 

Haggai's  message  now  is  one  of  peace  and  promise  ;  "  I  am 
with  you,  saitli  the  Lord."  And  before  the  month  is  over, 
all  hands  and  all  hearts  are  busily  ''  working  in  the  house  of 
the  Lord  of  hosts,  their  God"  (ver.  14).  It  is  the  Lord's 
doing.     The  Lord  is  glorified. 

II.  Haggai's  second  message  (ii.  1-9)  partakes  more 
of  the  character  of  prophecy,  in  our  modem  acceptation  of 
the  term,  than  his  first.  And  for  a  natural  and  obvious 
reason.  The  partially  suspended  labour  is  now  resumed.  It 
is  resumed  as  a  labour  of  love.  Their  cold  and  sluggish  self- 
ishness, that  helped  but  very  perfunctorily,  if  at  all,  in 
the  building  of  the  Lord's  house,  and  scarcely  kept  it  from 
an  entire  stop,  so  that  the  work  dragged  its  slow  lingering 
length  along,  while  all  their  care  was  about  their  own  houses, 
has  given  place,  under  the  prophet's  faithful  and  friendly 
dealing  with  them  on  the  part  of  the  Lord,  to  the  zeal  of 
godly  sorrow  and  the  glow  of  a  fresh  awakening.  The  labour 
is  resumed;  not  as  a  task,  a  burden,  a  weariness  of  the  flesh; 
but  as  a  labour  of  love  ;  of  much  love  springing  out  of  a 
sense  of  much  forgiveness. 

But  it  is  resumed  under  the  cloud  of  sad  memories  of 
the  past.  The  image  of  the  old  temple  in  its  glory  rises 
before  the  eyes  of  the  builders  of  this  new  one.  When  that 
house  was  built,  there  was  profound  peace  throughout  all  the 
borders  of  their  undivided  Israel.  The  wisest  of  Israel's 
kings  had  secured,  by  foreign  commerce  and  powerful  foreign 
alliances,  the  most  ample  means  and  advantages  for  carrying 
out  the  pious  plan  of  his  father  David,  and  turning  to  the 
best  accoimt  his  munificent  preparations.  Silver  was  in 
Jerusalem  as  stones,  and  the  most  costly  cedars  as  the  com- 
monest sycamores,  for  abundance.  Then  and  thus  arose  that 
goodly  structure,  all  beaming  and  burning  with  golden  splen- 

u 


290  WORK  FOR  THE  LORD  AND 

dour,  which  the  patriotism  and  devotion  of  all  Israel's  child- 
ren concurred  in  making  them  hold  so  dear. 

Now  all  is  changed.  The  feeble  remnant  of  a  dispersed 
people,  scarcely  recovered  from  long  exile,  almost  strangers 
in  the  land  of  their  fathers,  poor  in  resources,  surrounded  by 
pitiless  foes,  oiten  forced  to  work  with  sword  in  hand,  have 
to  rear,  as  best  they  may,  a  bare  and  meagre  substitute  for  the 
temple  which  had  been  their  nation's  boast.  No  wonder 
that  the  tears  of  the  old  flowed  afresh,  and  even  young 
hearts  were  saddened,  amid  the  shout  of  praise,  because  the 
foundation  of  the  house  of  the  Lord  was  laid ;  as  Ezra  so 
graphically  and  so  tenderly  paints  the  scene  ; — "  Many  of  the 
priests  and  Levites,  and  chief  of  the  fathers,  who  were  ancient 
men,  that  had  seen  the  first  house,  when  the  foundation  of 
this  house  was  laid  before  their  eyes,  wept  with  a  loud  voice  ; 
and  many  shouted  aloud  for  joy.  So  that  the  people  could 
not  discern  the  noise  of  the  shout  of  joy  from  the  noise  of 
the  weeping  of  the  people ;  for  the  people  shouted  with  a 
loud  shout,  and  the  noise  thereof  was  heard  afar  off  "  (Ezra 
iii.  11-13). 

In  these  circumstances,  when  the  sad  memory  of  the  past 
mingles  with  the  chequered  joy  of  the  present,  the  prophet 
has  a  word  in  season  from  the  Lord  for  the  people.  And  it 
is  fitly  a  word  prophetic  of  the  future.  He  does  not  deny  or 
disguise  the  inferiority  of  this  new  erection.  He  quite 
frankly  and  most  feelingly  admits  it  (ii.  3) :  "  Who  is  left 
among  you  that  saw  this  house  in  her  first  glory  ?  and 
how  do  ye  see  it  now  1  is  it  not  in  your  eyes  in  comparison 
of  it  as  nothing  1 "  But  admitting  that,  Haggai  is  very  bold 
in  encouraging  rulers,  priests,  people  (ver.  4)  :  "  Be  strong,  be 
strong,  be  strong,  and  work."  And  he  gives  strong  enough 
reasons  for  this  confident  and  courageous  appeal 

There  is  the  assurance  of  the  Lord's  continued  presence 
among  them  as  their  covenanted  God  (vers.  4,  5) :  "I  am 


WELFARE  IN  THE  LORD.  291 

with  you,  saith  the  Lord  ;  according  to  the  word  that  I  cove- 
nanted with  you  when  ye  came  out  of  Egypt,  so  my  Spirit 
remaineth  among  you  ;  fear  ye  not."  For  wliat  really  made 
you  fearless  yourselves,  and  the  cause  of  fear  to  all  around 
you,  in  those  better  days  on  which  you  now  look  back  ] 
AVhat  made  you  strong  1  Not  the  magnificent  house  built 
for  me  by  Solomon,  but  I,  the  Lord,  who  condescended  to 
inhabit  it ;  as  Solomon  himself  gloried  in  confessing,  when 
he  dedicated  the  house,  and  invoked  my  name  in  it ;  nay 
not  in  it,  but  in  that  which  it  shadowed  : — "Hear  thou  in 
heaven  thy  dwelling-place." 

That  ground  of  strength  and  fearlessness  you  had  long 
before  ;  when  a  curtained  tent  of  wood  was  the  only  symbol 
of  my  presence.  You  have  it  still,  you  may  have  it  always, 
though  in  this  new  symbol  you  see  Avhat  is  little  better  than 
that  tabernacle  of  old ;  nay,  though  there  should  be  no 
symbol  at  all,  "  I  am  Avith  you."  And  I  am  with  you  on 
the  footing,  and  in  terms  of  that  covenant  of  redemption 
which  I  made  with  you,  when  with  blood  of  atonement  and  a 
strong  arm  of  power  I  brought  you  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt, 
and  out  of  the  house  of  bondage  ;  engaging  you  to  be  my 
people,  and  myself  to  be  your  God.  My  Spirit  remaineth 
among  you,  to  dwell  in  you,  to  work  in  you,  to  strengthen 
you  with  might  in  the  inner  man.     Therefore,  fear  ye  not. 

The  rather  fear  ye  not,  because,  in  connection  with 
this  very  house,  whose  humble  aspect,  as  contrasted  with  its 
former  grandeur,  may  discourage  you,  there  is  to  be  the 
ushering  in  of  a  far  better  dispensation,  more  illustrious  and 
more  endurincc  than  that  which  seemed  to  reach  its  climax 
when  Solomon's  temple  was  in  all  its  glory.  It  may  seem 
to  be  in  its  decline  now,  when  so  poor  a  substitute  for  that 
temple  is  all  that  can  be  found.  But  no.  "  For  thus 
saith  the  Lord  of  hosts.  Yet  once  it  is  a  little  Avhile,  and  I 
will  shake  the  heavens,  and  the  earth,  and  the  sea,  and  the 


292  WOEK  FOR  THE  LORD  AND 

dry  land.     And  I  will  shake  all  nations,  and  tlie  desire  of 
all  nations  shall  come"  (vers.  6,  7). 

I  have  been  shaking  you,  my  chosen  people,  my  nation  ; 
shaking  you  from  off  your  own  land  ;  shaking  you  so  as  to 
overturn  you,  with  your  city  and  your  temple  ;  turning  you 
over  among  the  heathen.  And  the  shock  has  been  so  great 
that  even  the  deliverance  I  have  now  wrought  out  for  you, 
and  the  settlement  I  have  giv^en  you  in  this  land  again,  with 
city  and  temple  in  course  of  being  rebuilt,  fail  to  meet 
and  redress  the  stroke.  You  call  to  mind  the  days  of  old, 
before  this  terrible  shaking  of  you  began  ;  and  fain  would 
you  have  nation,  city,  temple,  as  glorious  now  as  then. 

Nay,  but  rather  look  forward.     See  in  prospect,  bound 
up  with  this  very  house  that  seems  so  despicable,  a  state  of 
matters  far  more  glorious  than  any  past  prosperity.    Another 
shaking, — "yet  once  more," — a  shaking,  not   of  a  single 
nation,  you,  my  chosen  people,  but  of  heaven  and    earth 
and  sea  and  dry  land  ;    a  universal    shaking, — "  removing 
those  things  that  are  shaken  as  things  that  are  made,  that 
those  things  wliich  cannot  be  shaken  may  remain."     Yes  ; 
there  is  to  be  such  "  a  shaking  of  all  nations."     For  "  the 
desire  of  all  nations  shall  come."    He  whom  not  Israel  alone, 
but  all  the  nations  need  and  long  for,  and  fain  would  wel- 
come, shall  come  ;  to  destroy  whatever  is  temporary,  shadowy, 
unreal,    capable    of  being    shaken  and   removed,    Avhether 
in  the  arrangements  of  human  society,  or  in  the  institutions 
of  a  divine  yet  imperfect  economy  ;  and  to  set  up  a  "  king- 
dom that  cannot  be  moved."     He  shall  come.     And  when 
he  comes,  then  "  I  will  fill  this  house  with  my  glory."     For 
I  am  he  that  is  to  come,  and  this  is  the  house  to  which  I 
come. 

For  now  the  riddle  is  to  be  read,  the  mystery  opened 
up.  Wliat  is  it  that  makes  this  house,  in  comparison  with 
that  former  one,  appear  in  your  eyes  as  nothing  1     Is  it  the 


WELFARE  IN  THE  LORD.  293 

want  of  splendid  adornments  Avithin  and  without]  Is 
it  the  plainness  of  its  outer  walls  and  the  homeliness  of  its 
inner  furniture  1  Is  it  the  lack  of  anything  that  means  and 
money  without  stint  might  promise  1  Nay  ;  if  that  were  all, 
the  deficiency  need  not  last  long  (ver.  3) :  "  The  silver  is  mine, 
and  the  gold  is  mine,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts."  But  silver 
and  gold  are  not  needed  to  turn  the  tables  in  this  comparison. 
Silver  and  gold  apart,  "  The  glory  of  this  latter  house  shall 
be  greater  than  the  former,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts  ;  and 
(or  for)  in  this  house  will  I  give  peace,  saith  the  Lord  of 
hosts  "  (ver.  9). 

For  what,  in  the  prophet's  view,  and  in  the  view  of 
earnest,  spiritual  men  among  the  Israelites, — what  really 
constituted  the  inferiority  of  this  house  1  In  what  did  it 
consist  1  N^ot  in  the  absence  from  it  of  what  silver  and 
gold  might  provide,  but  in  the  absence  of  that  which  was  the 
true  glory  of  the  old  temple,  as  of  the  tabernacle  which  pre- 
ceded it,  the  visible  manifestation  of  the  divine  presence,  the 
Shechinah,  the  emblem  of  the  divine  Majesty  dwelling  in  the 
most  holy  place,  between  the  cherubim,  over  the  mercy  seat. 
That  was  its  chief  defect,  its  only  desideratum  worth  the 
speaking  of  or  the  thinking  of.  When  this  new  house  is 
reared,  no  splendid  cloud  announces  Jehovah's  coming  to 
take  possession  of  his  new  abode.  He  no  longer  shows 
himself  in  its  sacred  precincts.  The  people  have  to  mourn 
a  vacant  temple  and  an  empty  shrine.  But  a  higher  glory 
is  in  reserve  for  it ;  a  glory  higher  in  respect  of  that  very 
outward,  palpable,  visible  manifestation  of  Jehovah's  presence 
which  constituted  the  first  temple's  real  distinction  and 
chief  est  boast.  "  I  will  fill  this  house  with  glory."  "  In 
this  place  will  I  give  peace." 

It  is  the  eternal  Son,  the  Lord  of  the  temple,  the  Jehovah 
of  Old  Testament  worship,  the  Jesus  of  New  Testament 
faith  ; — it  is  he  who  speaks.     I  appeared  in  my  glory  in  that 


294  WOEK  FOR  THE  LORD  AND 

old  house.  The  Shechinah  symhol  of  my  majesty  shone  all 
through  it,  and  sanctioned  in  it  a  ministry  of  mercy.  But 
it  was  only  semhlance  and  sign  ;  outward  semhlance,  typical 
sign.  In  this  house  all  is  at  last  to  be  real.  I  am  to  fill  it 
with  my  glory.  Personally,  I  am  to  be  in  it ;  manifesting 
forth  my  glory,  as  tlie  Word  made  flesh  ;  the  only-begotten 
Son  of  the  Father,  full  of  grace  and  truth.  And  I  am  to 
fill  this  house  with  my  glory  by  giving  peace  in  it.  That  is 
the  greater  glory  of  which  Haggai  speaks,  as  raising  the 
temple  then  in  building  above  that  of  Solomon. 

The  full  meaning  of  the  announcement  the  people  gene- 
rally might  not  then  understand,  as  we  may  understand  it 
now.  We  hear  Jesus  in  the  temple  speaking  words  of 
peace,  and  we  see  him  on  the  cross  sealing  to  us  that  peace 
with  his  blood.  We  see  this  prophecy  literally  fulfilled — 
"  Here  I  am  personally  to  appear ;  not  in  cloudy  brightness, 
indeed,  but  in  a  real,  living,  human  form  and  nature,  which 
is  far  better.  And  here  I  am  to  appear,  not  only  holding 
out  the  hope  of  peace  in  type,  and  figure,  and  promise,  but 
actually  giving  peace,  in  my  own  person,  as  being  myself  the 
very  righteousness  of  God  for  you,  and  the  propitiation  for 
your  sins.  '  Peace  I  leave  with  you  ;  my  peace  I  give  unto 
you.'  Thus  I  am  to  fill  this  house  with  my  glory.  And 
not  merely  thus,  as  giving  peace  ;  but  also,  still  further,  as 
bringing  in  the  final  restitution  of  all  things." 

How  glorious,  then,  is  this  house,  and  how  holy.  Let 
none  despise  it  or  profane  it.  Wherever  there  is  a  house 
that  is  so  honoured  by  the  presence  in  it  of  the  only  giver  of 
peace  and  the  only  restorer  of  the  lost — be  it  the  house  or 
temple  of  an  individual  believer's  soul,  or  the  church  which 
is  built  for  a  habitation  of  God  by  the  Spirit — let  nothing 
unholy  touch  it. 

III.  The  prophet's  third  and  last  message  (ii.  10-23)  bears 


WELFARE  IN  THE  LORD,  295 

upon  tliis  practical  point.  It  enforces  a  lesson  of  holiness. 
It  is  ushered  in  by  a  formal  consultation  of  the  guardians  of  the 
temple's  purity  (vers.  11-13) — "  Thus  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,. 
Ask  now  the  priests  concerning  the  law,  saying,  If  one  bear 
holy  flesh  in  the  skirt  of  his  garment,  and  with  his  skirt  do 
touch  bread,  or  pottage,  or  wine,  or  oil,  or  any  meat,  shall  it 
be  holy  1  And  the  priests  answered  and  said,  ]S''o.  Then 
said  Haggai,  If  one  that  is  unclean  by  a  dead  body  touch  any 
of  these,  shall  it  be  unclean  1  And  the  priests  answered  and 
said,  It  shall  be  unclean."  So  these  high  authorities  laid 
down  the  law  of  ordinances,  the  principle  of  the  ceremonial 
institute ;  to  the  effect  that  uncleanness  is  far  more  easily 
and  naturally  communicated  than  holiness.  The  sacred  flesh, 
which  for  sacred  purposes  a  man  may  be  reverently  carrying 
in  a  loop  of  his  flowing  robe,  will  not  impart  its  own  charac- 
ter of  sacredness  to  Avhat  it  may  happen  to  touch.  But  the 
slightest  accidental  contact  of  what  is  accounted  unclean,  as 
of  one  who  is  unclean  by  the  handling  of  a  dead  body,  is 
held  to  spread  contagion  and  contamination.  That  is  the  law 
of  outward  or  ceremonial  holiness,  as  interpreted  authori- 
tatively by  the  priests.  It  is  the  prophet's  function  to  give 
it  a  moral  or  spiritual  application.  And  so  he  does,  in  a 
manner  that  is  alike  true  and  tender. 

The  people,  it  would  seem,  are  in  danger  of  tampering 
with  impurity,  tolerating  pollution,  in  some  mild  form,  per- 
haps, and  some  small  measure.  It  may  be  that  they  are 
tempted  to  accept  of  offered  help  from  doubtful  quarters  ;  to 
avail  themselves  of  means  and  appliances  not  strictly  in 
accordance  with  the  holy  law  of  God  ;  and  to  silence  their 
scruples  in  doing  so  by  the  consideration  that,  being  them- 
selves holy,  and  being  engaged  in  a  holy  enterprise,  neither 
they  nor  their  work  were  in  danger  of  taking  much  harm 
from  the  admission  among  them  of  some  slightly  contami- 
nating element,  if  it  could  be  turned  to  account  for  furthering 


296  WORK  FOR  THE  LORD  AND 

their  good  and  godly  cause.  Thus  there  would  come  in 
arguments  of  expediency ;  pleadings  as  to  the  extreme  desir- 
ableness of  getting  on  with  what  they  have  on  hand  as  fast 
and  as  far  as  possible ;  and  pressing  into  the  service  all  and 
sundry  who  may  be  willing  to  engage  in  it.  What  pos- 
sible hurt  can  they  do  to  us  1  Nay,  on  the  contrary,  may  not 
we  be  of  some  use  to  them  1  Surely  what  is  evil  in  them 
and  in  their  ways  cannot  very  seriously  contaminate  us, 
while  what  of  good  there  is  in  us  may  be  blessed  to  them  ? 
It  is  a  subtle  snare  ;  besetting  the  church  in  all  ages  ;  be- 
setting all  its  members. 

It  is  the  snare  of  special  pleading  ;  the  so-called  science 
of  casuistry.  May  we  not,  to  gain  a  holy  end,  let  a  little  of 
worldly  policy  into  our  counsels,  and  some  few  Avorldly 
coadjutors  into  our  circle  1  It  will  meet  so  many  difficulties, 
soften  down  so  much  opposition,  and  make  our  path  and  our 
progress  so  smooth  and  so  rapid.  The  risk  of  evil  to  our- 
selves may  be  far  more  than  compensated  by  the  prospect  of 
good  lessons  being  taught  by  us  to  others,  and  good  influ- 
ences exerted  by  us  on  them. 

Alas  !  we  need  to  learn  the  sad  truth  brought  out  by  the 
consultation  the  prophet  bids  us  have  with  the  priests.  They 
know  that  in  their  province,  within  the  range  of  their  func- 
tions as  guardians  of  the  purity  of  the  ceremonial  worship, 
the  holiest  thing  a  man  can  carry  about  with  him  upon  his 
person  will  not  sanctify  by  contact  the  commonest  household 
article  ;  while  one  who  has  contracted  the  pettiest  and  most 
accidental  taint  of  uncleanness  will  spread  the  contagion  far 
and  wide  among  all  he  meets  Avith.  So  is  it  in  the  spiritual 
sphere.  Therefore  let  the  people  beware.  Let  them  remem- 
ber the  case  of  Achan.  Let  them  lay  to  heart  the  proverb, 
"  A  little  leaven  leaveneth  the  whole  lump."  Let  them 
rid  themselves  of  any  leaven  of  wickedness,  any  germ 
of  iniquity,    which   they    may    have   been    cherishing    or 


WELFAKE  IN  THE  LOKD.  297 

allowing  within   tlieir  borders.      Let  them  again  consider 
their  ways. 

Yes  ;  consider  what  hut  lately  you  suffered  (vers.  15-17), 
before  you  resumed  so  heartily  your  labour  of  laying  stone 
upon  stone  in  the  temple  of  the  Lord  ;  how  you  were  dis- 
appointed in  all  your  hopes,  and  smitten  with  judgments  in 
all  your  works,  because  you  turned  not  to  me,  saith  the  Lord. 
And  consider  (ver.  1 8)  what  is  before  you,  how  from  this  very 
day,  the  day  of  your  fairly  and  faithfully  applying  yourselves 
to  the  building  of  the  Lord's  house,  though  as  yet  the  harvest 
appears  not,  still  the  Lord  has  promised,  and  is  beginning 
to  bless  you.  Consider  the  judgment  behind  and  the  bless- 
ing before  ;  and  learn  that  it  is  best  to  trust  in  the  Lord 
alone,  and  cleave  to  the  Lord  alone,  without  going  down  to 
Egypt  for  help,  or  letting  doubtful  Egyptian  men  and  doubtful 
Egyptian  measures  come  in  among  you. 

Better  far,  when  tempted  to  yield  to  discouraging  and 
disheartening  thoughts,  suggesting  any  such  doubtful  expedi- 
ents of  help  or  of  relief,  better  accept  the  assurance  and  pledge 
which  in  his  final  message  the  prophet,  on  the  Lord's  part, 
once  more  gives  (vers.  20-23)  of  the  ultimate  triumph  of  his 
people,  and  the  ultimate  completed  beauty  and  glory  of  the 
temple  they  are  building  for  him.  He  points  the  eye  of  their 
faith  forward.  He  bids  them  fix  it,  moreover,  on  a  single 
man ;  the  one  great  Priest  of  the  temple,  the  King  and  Head 
of  whom  Zerubbabel  is  the  representative ;  the  man  Christ 
Jesus,  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever  ;  the  signet, 
the  seal  of  Jehovah's  faitlifulness  ;  his  chosen  one,  in  whom 
he  delighteth,  and  for  whose  sake  he  will  make  Jesus  alone 
a  praise  and  rejoicing,  and  will  fill  all  the  earth  as  his  temple 
with  his  glory. 

Eor  practical  appHcation,  let  me  ask  you  to  consider  if 
there  is  not  a  close  connection  to  be  traced — a  connection  in 
the  nature  of  things  as  well  as  by  special  divine  dealing — 


298  WOEK  FOE  THE  LOED   AND 

between  your  working  for  the  Lord  in  the  building  of  his 
house,  and  your  own  personal  welfare  ;  the  peace,  prosperity, 
and  progress  of  your  souls,  in  the  edifying  of  yourselves,  the 
working  out  of  your  own  salvation. 

The  three  causes  which  are  apt  to  hinder  your  faithful 
zeal  in  building  for  the  Lord;  selfish  sloth,  content  to  get  good, 
thinking  it  time  for  that,  but  not  counting  it  time  yet  to 
be  doing  good  ;  unbelieving  despondency,  apt  to  despise  the 
day  of  small  things,  to  sit  down  and  weep  because  the  build- 
ing which  you  have  to  help  on  now  and  here  is  nothing  when 
compared  with  the  building  that  went  on  once,  or  the  build- 
ing that  is  going  on  yonder ;  carnal  security,  becoming  toler- 
ant of  evil,  thinking  no  harm  can  come  from  doubtful  fellow- 
ships, and  some  partial  concessions  in  the  line  of  worldly 
expediency  and  worldly  conformity  ; — these  cancerous  sores, 
eating  away  all  your  heart  for  the  Lord's  work — are  they  not 
the  bane  also  of  your  own  spiritual  life  1  blighting  to  you  the 
most  plentiful  means  of  spiritual  nourishment  and  refresh- 
ment, stinting  your  spiritual  growth,  causing  you,  amid 
abundant  promise  of  spiritual  food,  to  starve  and  pine  away  1 
The  Lord  will  not,  he  cannot,  bless  you  personally  while  you 
yield  to  these  temptations  to  slackness  in  the  business  in  which 
he  would  engage  you  ;  the  business  of  seeking  out  from  amid 
the  world's  ruins  stones  for  his  living  temple,  doing  what  in 
you  lies  to  build  up  Christ's  spiritual  house,  to  win  souls  to 
him,  to  feed  his  lambs  and  his  sheep,  helping  them  to  abide 
in  him. 

Be  strong  and  work,  is  his  appeal  to  you.  Say  not 
"  The  time  is  not  come."  Think  not  the  work  too  in- 
significant, anything  you  can  do  too  trifling  and  mean  to  be 
acknowledged.  Do  what  you  can.  Suffer  not,  touch  not, 
the  unclean  thing,  as  if  you  might  take  your  ease,  and  let 
holiness  take  its  course  as  it  may.  Come  out  and  be  separate. 
Be  up  and  doing,  emptied  of  self,  full  of  zeal  for  God ;  not 


WELFARE  IN  THE  LOED.  299 

underrating  what  he  suffers  you  and  enables  you  to  do  for 
him  ;  not  doing  it  hstlessly,  as  if  it  were  not  worth  while ; 
but  doing  it  heartily,  as  unto  the  Lord,  who  accepteth  what 
you  do,  not  according  to  what  you  have  not,  but  according 
to  what  you 'have  ;  and  finally,  not  giving  way  or  giving  in  to 
evil,  whether  around  you  or  within  you,  as  if  you  could  do 
nothing  but  allow  things  just  to  go  on  without  much  care  or 
concern  on  your  part  about  them.  No  !  rather  resist  unto 
blood,  striving  against  sin.  Be  purged  anew  of  uncleanness, 
and  say — "  Here  am  I,  Lord  ;  send  me." 

Mark  these  three  snares  well ;  snares  alike  fatal  to  your 
work  for  the  Lord,  and  to  your  own  welfare  in  the  Lord. 
And  mark  them  as  the  three  successive  stages  or  steps  in  a 
downward  course. 

First,  there  is  the  dilatory  putting  off",  the  sluggard's  lazy 
begging,  A  little  more  sleep,  a  little  more  slumber.  Time 
enough  !  Time  enough  for  this  or  that  exertion,  this  or  that 
sacrifice,  this  or  that  toil  or  trial !  Ah !  it  is  time,  you 
admit,  for  your  own  selfish  sloth  to  be  gratified.  "  Soul, 
take  thine  ease."  Ay  !  and  it  is  high  time  for  you  to  awake 
out  of  sleep. 

Then  there  is  the  feeble,  querulous  complaint  of  impo- 
tency,  the  affected  pleading  of  your  weakness,  the  uselessness 
of  your  doing  anything,  since  you  can  do  so  little.  Why 
bestir  yourselves  1  What  have  you  in  your  power  1  What, 
after  all,  is  all  that  you  can  efi'ect  ?  How  far  short  of  what 
you  would  deem  worthy  of  God  and  of  yourselves  !  If  you 
could  do  some  great  thing, — build  a  tem^jle  like  the  former, 
— you  might  have  some  inducement  to  exert  your  energies ! 
But  so  feeble  and  broken  as  you  are,  what  can  you  do  1 

Ah  !  how  near,  in  such  a  mood  of  mind,  is  the  last  land- 
ing-place in  this  sliding  scale  of  declension !  How  certain 
is  the  result !  You  become  listlessly,  lazily,  secure  and 
self-confident ;    indifi"erent,  insensible,  to  the  presence,  the 


300      WOKK  FOE  THE  LOED  AND  WELFAEE  IN  THE  LOED. 

power,  the  prevalence,  of  contaminating  woiidliness  and  un- 
godliness. For  there  is  no  security  against  acquiescence  in 
evil  but  striving  after  good.  Well  did  David  pray  in  that 
19th  Psalm — "Who  can  understand  his  errors?  Cleanse 
thou  me  from  secret  faults  ;  keep  back  thy  serva'nt  also  from 
presumptuous  sins ;  let  not  them  have  dominion  over  me : 
then  shall  I  be  upright,  and  I  shall  be  innocent  from  the 
great  transgression."  And  well  also  did  he  add,  as  his  only 
security  against  the  backsliding  which  he  deprecated,  the 
petition  for  grace  to  make  positive  attainments  and  positive 
progress  in  well-doing — "  Let  the  words  of  my  mouth,  and 
the  meditations  of  my  heart,  be  acceptable  in  thy  sight,  0 
Lord,  my  strength  and  my  redeemer"  (Ps.  xix.  12-1'i). 


THE  EIGHTEOUS  REWARD.  301 


XVIII. 
THE  EIGHTEOUS  EEWARD. 

"  For  God  is  not  unrighteous  to  forget  your  work  and  labour  of  love, 
which  ye  have  shewed  toward  his  name,  in  that  ye  have  ministered 
to  the  saints,  and  do  minister." — Hebrews  vi.  10. 

**  Esteeming  the  reproach  of  Christ  greater  riches  than  the  treasures  in 
Egj'pt  :  for  he  had  respect  unto  the  recompence  of  the  reward." — 
Hebkews  XI.  26. 

"What  is  said  of  Moses,  that  "  he  had  respect  unto  the 
recompense  of  the  reward,"  may  seem  at  fu'st  sight  to  detract 
from  the  disinterestedness  of  liis  conduct  in  refusing  to  be 
called  the  son  of  Pharaoh's  daughter ;  choosing  rather  to 
suffer  affliction  with  the  people  of  God ;  "  esteeming  the  re- 
proach of  Christ  greater  riches  than  the  treasures  in  Egypt." 
There  are  devout  men  who  sincerely  think,  or  vaguely  feel, 
that  the  admission  of  any  such  motive  as  an  element  in  the 
Christian  life  is  somehow  inconsistent  with  the  free  grace  of 
the  gospel  and  the  nature  of  evangelical  obedience,  as  not 
a  mercenary  service  for  a  remuneration,  but  a  pure  labour  of 
love.  And  doubtless  these  two  ways  of  walking  with  God 
may  be  broadly  and  generally  distinguished,  as  differing 
from  one  another  in  spirit,  in  comjDass  or  extent,  and  in 
actual  effect.  The  contrast  between  a  servile  and  a  filial 
submission  to  the  divine  will  is  to  be  always  kept  in  view. 

At  the  same  time,  there  is  risk  of  error  in  pushuig  the 
contrast  too  far,  or  applying  the  principle  of  it  indiscreetly. 
There  is  the  danger  of  a  sort  of  sentimental  morbidness. 


302  THE  EIGHTEOUS   EEWAED. 

For  it  has  a  certain  air  of  loyalty  and  chivalry  to  stand 
upon  the  footing  of  not  asking  or  accepting  requital  for  any 
favour ;  to  decline  all  acknowledgment  of  service  rendered 
or  benefit  conferred ;  and  to  insist  on  whatever  we  do  or 
give  being  out  and  out  spontaneous  and  gratuitous.  Between 
man  and  man,  giving  and  receiving  good,  such  a  state  of 
things  is  far  from  satisfactory.  The  state  of  mind  which 
it  indicates  is  neither  generous  nor  gracious.  There  is  pride, 
selfish  and  suspicious,  on  one  side  or  other ;  or  on  both. 

To  introduce  any  such  feeling  into  the  domain  of  personal 
piety  is  a  still  sadder  and  more  fatal  mistake.  And  yet  it 
has  been  not  uncommon.  It  has  been  frequently  exempli- 
fied in  the  history  of  the  church's  inner  life,  in  various  forms 
of  mysticism  and  pietism.  But  invariably  the  tj'pe  is  one 
and  the  same.  It  is  the  idea  of  such  utterly  unselfish,  self- 
ignoring,  disinterestedness  in  serving  or  submitting  to  God, 
as  precludes  all  regard  to  one's  own  welfare,  and  all  considera- 
tion of  what  one  may  receive  as  a  prize  at  the  hands  of  God. 
The  tendency  of  all  such  ultra-sentimentalism  and  transcen- 
dentalism is  to  undermine  the  sense  of  obligation  and  re- 
sponsibility. Hence  accordingly,  in  its  more  common  line 
of  influence,  it  fosters  the  conceit  of  the  natural  mind.  Our 
lips  are  our  own.  TVe  are  our  own  masters.  Leave  us  to 
ourselves.  Let  us  take  our  own  method  of  expressing  and 
proving  our  duty,  gratitude,  trust,  and  love.  Let  us  not 
be  tied  down  by  precise  rules.  Let  us  not  be  dictated 
to,  or  forced,  or  bribed.  Leave  us  at  liberty.  And  let  it 
be  seen,  if  we  will  not,  of  our  own  accord,  and  not  only 
without  regard  to  idtimate  personal  advantage,  but  spurning 
all  that  away,  be  and  do  all  that  you  could  wish. 

Before  disposing  of  this  somewhat  plausible  view,  either 
in  its  higher  spiritual  aspect,  or  in  its  lower,  it  may  be  useful 
to  consider,  as  on  the  side,  not  of  man's  sentiments,  but  of 
God's  manner  of   dealing  with  man,   and   especially  with 


THE  RIGHTEOUS  REWARD.  303 

Christian  or  believing  man,  what  is  the  principle  upon 
which  God  proceeds  in  his  dispensing  of  the  recompense  of 
the  reward  to  which  he  would  have  us,  like  IMoses,  to  have 
respect.  That  [principle  is  brought  out  in  the  text — "  God 
is  not  unrighteous  to  forget  your  Avork  and  labour  of  love, 
which  ye  have  showed  toward  his  name,  in  that  ye  have 
ministered  to  the  saints,  and  do  minister." 

The  peculiarity  lies  here  in  the  expression,  "  God  is  not 
imrighteous  to  forget  your  work  and  labour  of  love."  It 
concerns,  not  his  goodness  and  generosity  merely,  but  his 
righteousness,  that  he  should  remember  your  good  works ; 
to  recompense  and  requite  them. 

There  is,  of  course,  one  very  obvious  sense  in  which  this 
statement  may  be  said  to  be  true  ;  to  be  indeed  almost  a  mere 
truism.  It  may  be  considered  as  referring  to  the  promises  and 
pledges  which  God  has  been  graciously  pleased  to  give  in  his 
wonl ;  to  the  effect  that  no  service  or  sacrifice  in  his  cause, 
and  on  his  behalf, shall  be  unrequited;  that  not  the  giving  of  a 
cup  of  cold  Avater  in  his  name  shall  in  any  wise  lose  its  reward. 
God  must  redeem  his  pledges,  and  make  good  his  promises. 
He  is  not  untrue,  unfaithful,  unrighteous ;  as  he  would 
be  if  he  did  not. 

Yery  manifestly,  however,  such  an  interpretation,  though 
sound  so  far  as  it  goes,  does  not  exhaust,  if  indeed  it  at  all 
touches,  the  real  meaning  of  the  text.  For  the  gracious  act  of 
God  in  not  forgetting,  but,  on  the  contrary,  remembering  and 
recompensing  his  people's  work  and  labour  of  love,  is  here 
represented,  not  merely  as  righteous  on  the  ground  of  a  pledge 
or  promise  on  his  part,  but  as  righteous  in  itself.  For  the 
question  is  not  on  what  principle  God  is  simply  righteous  in 
doing  a  certain  thing  when  he  has  freely  bound  himself  in 
covenant  and  by  promise  to  do  it,  and  would  be  unrighteous 
if  he  did  not  do  it ;  but  on  what  principle,  whether  he  binds 
himself  in  covenant  or  not,  it  is  a  right  thing  for  him  to  do 


304  THE  EIGHTEOUS  EEWAED. 

it,  and  would  be  an  unrighteous  thing  not  to  do  it.  For 
that  is  what  is  affirmed  when  it  is  said  "  God  is  not  un- 
righteous to  forget  your  work  and  labour  of  love,  which  ye 
have  showed  toward  his  name,  in  that  ye  have  ministered  to 
the  saints,  and  do  minister." 

,  Taking  that  view  of  the  text,  and  considering  the  prin- 
ciple which  it  brings  out  generally,  without  regard  in  the 
meantime  to  the  connection  in  which  it  stands,  there  are 
several  interesting  and  affecting  lights  in  which  it  may  be 
placed. 

I.  God  is  not  unrighteous  to  forget  your  work  and  labour 
of  love  ;  inasmuch  as  his  doing  so  would  be  ungenerous, 
ungracious,  unkind.  Were  he  not  to  remember  and  ac- 
knowledge it,  he  might  seem  to  be  damping  your  zeal.  In 
this  view,  the  statement  is  fitted  seasonably  to  cheer  and 
encourage  you.  You  are  apt  to  be  ashamed  of  the  services 
which  you  render  to  him.  They  are  so  worthless  in  them- 
selves, and  so  marred  and  stained  with  sin  in  the  very  ren- 
dering of  them,  that  you  can  scarcely  believe  it  possible  for 
them  to  come  up  as  prayer  and  alms,  to  be  heard,  and  had  in 
remembrance  in  the  sight  of  God. 

But  now  consider,  as  regards  this  matter,  not  what  you 
deserve,  but  what  it  is  becoming  and  worthy  of  himself  that 
God  should  do.  Few  and  faulty  your  best  services  may  be  ; 
unsatisfying  to  yourselves  ;  much  more  to  your  God.  Well 
might  he  reject  them  all.  But  would  he  be  justified  in  doing 
so  1  Would  it  be  in  harmony  with  what  he  has  revealed  to 
you  of  the  riches  of  his  glory,  and  what  he  has  made  you  to 
taste  of  the  fulness  of  his  grace  1  I  can  conceive  of  an 
earthly  benefactor  taking  pleasure  in  showing  me  his  love  ; 
and  at  the  same  time  taking  a  perverse  pleasure  in  mortifying 
every  desire  on  my  part  to  show  my  love  to  him.  He  may 
be  vain  and  capricious  ;  or  jealous  and  proud  ;  fond  of  the 


THE  KIGHTEOUS  REWAKD.  305- 

assertion  of  superiority  in  bestowing  a  gift,  and  refusing  to 
accept  any  sort  of  acknowledgment  in  return.  Not  such  is 
the  manner  of  God,  it  is  not  thus  that  he  has  been  dealing 
with  you  ;  receiving  you  graciously  ;  giving  liberally  and 
upbraiding  not.  And  now,  when  he  puts  it  into  your  hearts 
to  long  after  offering  to  him  some  gift  for  all  his  benefits  to 
you,  can  it  be  imagined  that  he  should  coldly  or  contemp- 
tuously ignore  the  gift  1  No.  He  does  not  upbraid  you  with 
the  value  of  his  undeserved  benefits  to  you.  He  will  not 
upbraid  you  with  the  worthlessness  of  what  you  give  to  him. 
All  that  he  bestows,  he  bestows  in  good  faith.  All  that  you 
render,  he  will  take  in  good  part.  For  he  is  not  unrighteous 
to  forget  you  Avork  and  labour  of  love. 

II.  God  is  not  unrighteous  to  forget  your  work  and 
labour  of  love ;  inasmuch  as  his  doing  so  woiild  be  incon- 
sistent with  his  faithfuhiess  and  truth.  I  do  not  now  refer 
to  his  faithfulness  and  truth  as  keeping  his  promise  and  ful- 
filling his  word.  That  is  a  human  virtue  ;  rooted  no  doubt 
in  the  divine  attribute  of  unchangeableness ;  but  still,  I 
would  say,  merely  human. 

I  refer  to  his  faithfulness  and  truth  in  a  higher  view ;  in 
the  view  of  his  sovereignty  over  you  and  his  right  of  pro- 
perty in  you.  In  that  view,  he  is  to  be  regarded  as  hiring 
you  ;  engaging  you  to  be  his  servants  ;  and  assigning  to  you 
your  service.  He  does  so,  in  the  exercise  of  his  own  un- 
questionable discretion ;  according  to  his  own  good  pleasure, 
and  the  freedom  of  his  own  will.  So  he  sends  you  into  liis 
vineyard.  He  does  not  leave  it  to  you  to  devise  a  way  in 
wliich  you  may,  at  your  own  discretion,  manifest  your  loyalty. 
He  welcomes  you  indeed  as  volunteers ;  made  willing  by 
himself  in  the  day  of  his  power.  But  he  enlists  you  as  his  sol- 
diers and  subjects,  under  command.     You  are  to  offer  service 

X 


306  THE  KIGHTEOUS  KEWAED. 

voluntarily.  But  when  your  offer  is  accepted,  you  are  to 
obey  orders. 

This  consideration  may  seem,  in  one  view,  to  diminish 
or  detract  from  any  claim  on  your  part  for  any  recompense 
of  reward.  It  divests  your  work  and  labour  of  love,  which 
you  show  to  his  name,  of  the  character  of  a  spontaneous,  or 
strictly  self-prompted  and  self-directed  offering.  What  you 
do  or  suffer  is  not  at  your  own  hand,  but  by  his  appoint- 
ment. 

But,  in  another  view,  the  certainty  of  your  being  amply 
recolnpensed  and  repaid  is  thus  placed  on  the  highest  pos- 
sible ground.  "  0  Lord,  truly  I  am  thy  servant :  I  am  thy 
servant  and  the  son  of  thy  handmaid ;  thou  hast  loosed  my 
bonds.  Thou  hast  broken  every  other  yoke ;  and  I  take 
thy  yoke  upon  me.  I  wait  thy  commands.  What  wouldst 
thou  have  me  to  do  ? "  Such  is  the  attitude  of  beheving  sub- 
mission. It  is  not  indeed  an  attitude  so  gratifying  to  my  natural 
self-esteem,  as  that  which  I  may  once  have  been  disposed  to 
assume,  when,  in  the  exercise  of  my  own  independent  liberty 
of  choice,  I  thought  of  presenting  an  unasked  and  unpre- 
scribed  gift,  as  if  in  compliment  to  my  Maker  and  Eedeemer, 
for  his  gifts  to  me.  But  it  is  a  position  safer  far,  and  more 
becoming.  I  feel  indeed  that  I  have  nothing  which,  as  from 
myself,  I  can  offer  to  my  God.  I  am  myself  his  property ; 
his  purchased  possession ;  not  my  own,  but  bought  with  a 
price.  And  all  that  I  have  is  his  ;  by  right  of  redemption 
his ;  as  I  am  his.  ISTay,  what  have  I  that  I  have  not  re- 
ceived 1  Who  am  I  that  I  should  be  able  or  willing  to  offer 
after  any  sort  1  All  the  store  of  talents  and  resources  out 
of  which  I  can  offer  comes  from  him,  and  is  all  his  own. 
And  I,  his  servant,  must  offer  it,  not  as  I  choose,  but  as  he 
desires  and  directs. 

But  does  that  thought,  I  ask  again,  detract  in  the  least 
from   my   confident  persuasion  that  what   I   offer  will  be 


THE  EIGHTEOUS  REWAED.  30 7 

accepted  and  requited  1  Does  it  not,  on  the  contrary,  enhance 
my  assurance  tenfold  ?  He  makes  me  his  servant.  He 
assigns  to  me  my  work.  He  fits  me  for  my  work.  And  he 
is  not  imrighteous  to  forget  my  work.  That  he  condescends 
to  employ  and  engage  me  in  work  for  him  is  a  pledge  of  his 
purpose  to  reward  me.  That  he  does  so  employ  me  at  all  is 
great  condescension  on  his  part.  He  has  no  need  of  me.  My 
goodness  reaches  not  to  him.  And  are  not  all  the  angels  his 
ministering  servants  1  Why  should  he  engage  me  in  his 
service  1  But  he  has  engaged  me.  He  does  engage  me. 
And  that  he  may  engage  me  wholly  to  himself,  he  breaks 
and  cancels  all  other  engagements.  He  commits  himself  to 
you,  believers.  Yes.  To  you  he  commits  the  honour  of  his 
name,  the  interests  of  his  cause  and  kingdom,  the  well-being 
of  his  people,  and  of  all  Lis  creatures.  For  it  is  as  serving 
him  that  you  do  good  to  them.  As  being  his  servants  alone, 
he  insists  on  your  having  no  other  master.  He  hires  you  to 
be  his ;  altogether  his.  All  your  time  and  all  your  treasure, 
every  moment  of  the  one,  every  mite  of  the  other,  he  claims 
as  his.  And  by  all  the  sanctions  of  his  absolute  sovereignty ; 
his  rich,  redeeming  love ;  his  free  and  all-powerful  grace  ; 
he  vindicates  his  right  to  have  all  the  desires  of  your  hearts 
and  all  the  doings  of  your  hands  turned  to  account  for  liis 
glory. 

Would  it  be  fair,  handsome,  honourable,  for  a  master  en- 
listing servants  in  such  a  way,  on  such  terms,  under  such  obli- 
gations, in  such  a  service,  to  forget  their  work,  to  let  it  pass 
into  oblivion,  thankless  and  unrequited  1  Be  it  that  it  is 
work  or  service  to  which  they  are  indispensably  bound  at  any 
rate,  and  which  they  have  no  discretionary  liberty  to  accept  or 
decline  ;  for  which,  therefore,  they  have  no  title  to  stipulate 
for  payment  beforehand,  or  to  demand  payment  afterwards. 
Be  it  even  that  they  understand  that  condition  of  their  en- 
gagement, and  consent  to  it,  and  are  willing  to  reckon  the 


308  THE  EIGHTEOUS  REWARD. 

whole  of  their  work  to  be  a  labour  of  mere  love.  That  does 
not  acquit  or  exonerate  the  master,  in  his  own  judgment  at 
least,  whatever  they  may  think.  If  he  is  honest,  upright, 
high-minded,  he  will  not  suffer  his  servants  to  entertain  a 
moment's  doubt  of  his  intention  to  acknowledge  their  faith- 
fulness, and  make  all  the  world  know  that  he  does  so. 

And  is  God  unrighteous  1  Is  he  who  solemnly  binds 
you  in  so  strict  a  covenant  of  service  to  let  it  be  supposed 
that  he  can  act  unfaithfully  or  unfairly  ?  Nay  ;  so  scrupulous 
is  he,  that  even  when  lie  employs  an  enemy  in  any  service, 
he  punctually,  not  to  say  punctiliously,  pays  him  for  it. 
Because  Nebuchadnezzar  king  of  Babylon  caused  his  army 
to  serve  a  great  service  against  Tyrus,  the  Lord  gave  him 
the  land  of  Egypt  for  his  hire,  to  be  the  wages  for  his  army 
(see  Ezek.  xxix.  18-20).  And  is  he  unrighteous  to  forget  your 
work  and  labour  of  love ;  the  work  and  loving  labour  of  his 
chosen  and  his  redeemed  ?  Surely  it  is  no  vain  thing,  but 
rather  a  very  blessed  thing,  for  you  thus  to  serve  the  Lord, 
having  such  a  simple,  single-eyed,  meek,  and  honourable  con- 
fidence as  this  in  the  truth  and  faithfulness  of  him  whom 
you  serve  !  You  make  no  selfish  or  sordid  stipulations.  You 
strike  no  careful  balance  of  consequences  and  calculations. 
You  raise  no  nice  and  subtle  points  of  claims  and  counter- 
claims. You  ask  no  questions.  Freely  and  fearlessly  you 
cast  yourselves  upon  the  Lord,  for  the  requital  of  your  service, 
even  as  you  cast  yourselves  upon  him  for  the  pardon  of  your 
iniquities  ;  not  doubting,  but  believing  that  as  he  is  faithful 
and  just  to  forgive  you  your  sins,  so  he  is  not  unrighteous 
to  forget  your  work  and  labour  of  love. 

III.  There  are  other  considerations  of  a  general  sort  that 
might  be  brought  forward  to  strengthen  this  quiet  assurance. 
For  instance,  here  is  one.  If,  in  one  view,  God  commits 
himself  to  you  ;  in  another  view  he  commits  you  and  binds 


THE  RIGHTEOUS  REWARD.  309 

you  to  himself.  He  commits  you,  if  you  are  indeed  engaged 
as  servants  in  his  house  and  kingdom,  to  a  hfe  of  self-denial 
and  of  self-sacrifice.  He  brings  you  away  from  the  lleshpots  of 
Eg}T)t ;  the  dainties  of  Pharaoh's  table,  the  wealth  and  pomp 
of  Pharaoh's  court.  And  it  is  but  reasonable  to  believe  that 
he  must  indemnify  you  for  any  loss  or  damage  you  may 
sustain  on  his  account.  On  this  footing  our  Lord  himself 
very  plainly  puts  the  matter. 

When  Peter  says,  "Lord,  we  have  left  all  and  have  followed 
thee,"  being  inclined  almost  to  make  a  boast  or  make  a  merit 
of  that  self-impoverishment,  as  against  the  rich,  or  those  who 
trust  in  riches,  for  whom  it  is  hard  to  enter  into  the  kingdom 
of  God ;  and  when  ho  adds  the  inquiry,  "  Wliat  shall  we  have, 
therefore  1 "  Jesus,  partly  to  humble  and  partly  to  encourage, 
desires  his  over-officious  if  not  over-anxious  disciple  to  cease 
from  being  careful  for  anything,  and  to  leave  all  to  the 
Master.  He  will  see  to  it,  it  concerns  his  righteousness  to 
see  to  it,  that  "  every  one  that  has  forsaken  houses,  or  breth- 
ren, or  sisters,  or  father,  or  mother,  or  wife,  or  children,  or 
lands,  for  his  name's  sake,  shall  receive  an  hundredfold,  and 
shall  inherit  everlasting  life." 

So  also,  with  reference  to  the  persecution  which  the  Lord 
had  said  must  accompany,  and,  as  it  were,  condition  or  limit 
the  fulfilment  of  this  promise,  the  apostle  Paul  makes  the 
certainty  of  ultimate  deliverance  from  it  turn  on  the  same 
sort  of  consideration  :  "  It  is  a  righteous  thing  with  God  to 
recompense  tribulation  to  them  that  trouble  you,  and  to  you 
who  are  troubled,  rest  with  us,  when  the  Lord  Jesus  shall  be 
revealed  from  heaven  with  his  mighty  angels." 

In  the  service  of  God,  if  loyal  and  true,  you  must  make 
up  your  mind  to  relinquish  or  forego  not  a  few  of  those 
sources  of  pleasure  and  enjoyment  which  the  Avorld  presents 
to  you.  And  for  whatever  you  may  thus  give  up,  he  whom 
you  serve  may  be  expected,  if  he  is  to  act  wortliily  of  him- 


o 


10  THE  EIGHTEOUS  KEWARD. 


self,  to  provide  some  kind  of  equivalent.  If  you  lose  the 
favour  of  men,  you  have  the  favour  of  God.  If  you  cease  to 
have  the  peace  which  the  world  gives,  when,  with  its  refuges 
of  lies,  it  soothes  your  conscience  ;  you  have  the  peace  of  God 
which  passes  understanding,  the  peace  which  Jesus  gives, 
his  own  peace,  which,  when  dying,  he  bequeaths  and  leaves 
to  dying  sinners.  If  you  have  to  cut  off  a  right  hand,  to 
pluck  out  a  right  eye ;  maimed  as  you  are  and  wounded,  you 
enter  into  life.  If  the  good  things  of  earth  are  to  be  your 
treasure  no  more ;  you  have  better  treasure  in  heaven,  where 
no  moth  corrupts,  and  no  thief  breaks  through  to  steal.  You 
are  prevented  now  from  giving  full  scope,  in  the  line  of  the 
world's  pursuits,  to  that  principle  of  your  nature  which 
prompts  you  to  acquire  and  to  accumulate.  But  it  is  the 
glory  of  the  gospel  that  it  does  not  propose  to  suppress  a 
principle  so  powerful,  and,  in  its  place,  so  useful.  Eather 
it  turns  it  to  good  account.  For  the  work  and  labour  of  love 
assuredly  affords  ample  room  and  scope  for  its  exercise. 

Yes,  ye  beHeving  and  loving  servants  of  the  Lord  ! 
You  are  cut  off  from  the  calculations  of  earthly  ambition  and 
earthly  covetousness.  But  the  calculations  of  heaven  are  all 
before  you  ;  and  in  these  you  may  be  as  ambitious  and  as 
covetous  as  you  please.  You  are  no  longer  at  liberty  to  lay 
up  for  yourselves  perishable  riches.  But  of  the  riches  which 
are  eternal  you  never  can  lay  up  enough.  You  may  go 
about  your  work  and  labour  of  love  in  the  very  spirit  of  one 
most  sedulously,  eari^estly,  vehemently,  heaping  up  treasure. 
Only  the  treasure  is  in  heaven,  not  on  earth.  ■  And  you  may 
be  very  sure  that  the  more  you  are  expending  your  strength 
and  substance  for  the  Lord  now,  the  larger  will  the  store  be 
growing  .of  the  recompense  of  glory  and  of  joy  awaiting  you 
in  the  time  to  come.  It  must  be  so.  For  God  is  not  un- 
righteous. He  withdraws  you  in  great  measure  from  a  field 
of  labour  in  which  your  toil  and  trouble  would  have  been 


THE  RIGHTEOUS  REWARD.  311 

crowned  with  its  due  meed  of  success  ;  in  wliich  your  diligent 
hand  would  have  made  you  rich,  and  you  would  have  had 
your  reward.  Must  he  not  make  up  to  you  for  that  loss  ? 
Must  he  not,  in  the  new  field  in  which  he  sets  you  to  work, 
so  proportion  your  re-vfard  to  your  diligence  that  you  shall 
not  have  less  to  stimulate  and  encourage  you  in  his  service 
than  you  would  have  had  in  the  service  of  the  world  ? 
Surely  it  must  be  so.     For  God  is  not  unrighteous  to  forget. 

Thus  far,  I  have  spoken  of  the  recompense  of  the  reward ; 
God's  not  forgetting  your  work  and  labour  of  love ;  as 
simply  righteous  on  his  part.  But,  before  leaving  that  topic, 
I  must  remind  you  that  the  righteousness  is  still  always 
of  grace. 

It  is  the  righteousness,  not  of  law,  but  of  equity.  It 
gives  you  no  such  claim  or  title  as  you  might  enforce  in  a 
coux-t  of  justice,  by  procedure  of  a  legal  sort.  All  your 
claim  must  rest  upon  the  good  faith  or  kind  favour  of  the 
other  party.  This  does  not  touch  the  certainty  of  your 
being  righted  and  rewarded.  Eut  it  divests  you  of  all  title 
to  demand  it  or  to  reckon  uf)on  it  as  your  due.  How 
blessed  a  thing  is  it  in  this  view,  to  disown  all  right  of  yours, 
and  lean  on  the  righteousness  of  God  ! 

Further,  the  righteousness  in  question  is  not  that  of  express 
compact,  but  rather  that  of  a  fair,  reasonable,  and  amiable 
understanding.  It  is  not  a  case,  as  between  debtor  and 
creditor,  to  be  adjusted  upon  a  balance  of  business  accounts 
and  books.  Your  remuneration  is  rather  an  honourable 
acknowledgment  of  the  spirit  in  Avhich  you  work,  than  an 
exact  and  formal  discharge  of  the  work  itself.  Hence,  this 
principle,  while  it  leaves  no  room  for  presumption  on  your 
part,  leaves  abundant  room  for  the  most  large  and  liberal 
discretion  on  the  part  of  God.  He  is  not  tied  down  by  any 
minute  and  martinet  rule,  in  dispensing  his  favours.     He 


312  THE  EIGHTEOUS  REWAKD, 

may  do   according  to   his   own  pleasure,  in  bestowing  his 
rewards  on  them  that  serve  him. 

It  is  this  principle,  substantially,  which  is  brought  out 
in  the  parable  of  the  labourers  sent  successively  into  the 
vineyard.  "Why  does  the  Lord  pay  so  liberally  the  labourers 
hired  at  the  eleventh  hour?  "Why  does  he  not  make  a 
distinction  between  them  and  those  who  had  borne  the 
burden  and  heat  of  the  day?  Is  he  unrighteous  here? 
Nay  !  K  those  first  called  will  stand  upon  their  strict  claim 
of  right ;  pleading  it,  not  for  their  own  indemnification,  but 
in  bar  of  a  benefit  to  their  fellow  labourers  ;  the  answer  is 
clear  and  conclusive.  No  wrong  is  done  to  you.  Take 
what  is  yours.  All  that  you  stipulated  for,  all  that  I  agreed 
with  you  for,  take.  Much  good  may  it  do  you  in  your 
present  envious  frame  of  mind  !  But  is  that  jealous  mind 
of  yours  to  limit  me  in  my  bountiful  dealing  with  those 
who,  though  called  later  into  the  field,  are  as  ripe  and  ready 
for  the  reward,  in  my  view,  as,  after  all  your  long  service, 
I  find  you  to  be  ?  Nay  !  Are  they  not  riper  and  readier 
even  than  you  ?  Is  your  evil  eye  then  to  hinder  the  outflow 
of  fmy  goodness  to  them  ?  You  have  Avhat  is  yours  ;  I  do 
what  I  will  with  my  own.  And  as  I  will  not  be  unrighteous 
to  forget,  I  will  not  be  straitened  in  requiting  any  work  or 
labour  of  love  shown  to  my  name. 

Here  I  close  with  some  practical  applications  of  the 
truth  I  have  been  unfolding. 

1.  As  God  is  not  unrighteous  to  forget  your  work  and 
labour  of  love,  be  not  ye  unrighteous  to  forget  your  duty  to 
him.  As  he  is,  so  to  speak,  on  honour  with  you,  be  you 
scrupulously  and  sensitively  on  honour  with  him.  Let  your 
conscientious  faithfulness  in  dealing  with  him  correspond  in 
some  suitable  measure  to  his  generous  faithfulness  in  owning 
and  recompensing  your  work  and  labour  of  love.     And,  as  it 


THE  EIGHTEOUS  EEWARD.  313 

is  not  according  to  any  narroAv,  frigid,  niggardly  calculation  ; 
but  freely,  largely,  bountifully,  munificently  ;  that  lie  shows 
himself  to  be  not  unrighteous  in  rewarding  you ;  so  let  it 
be  in  the  same  liberal  spirit,  that  you  show  yourselves  to  be 
not  unrighteous  in  your  work  and  labour  of  love  towards  his 
name. 

Many  motives  should  prompt  this  duty.  Think  on  the 
way  in  which  he  receives  you  into  his  favour ;  on  the 
amazing  sacrifice  of  his  Son,  whom  he  gives  to  the  death  of 
the  cross,  that  he  may  reconcile  you.  to  himself;  recei\dng 
you  graciously,  and  loving  you  freely.  Consider  how  he 
treats  you  in  his  Son  Jesus  Christ ;  as  not  servants  merely, 
acquitted  of  blame  and  justified,  but  sons  whom,  in  his 
Son,  he  loves,  as  he  loves  him.  And  say  if  you  can  be  con- 
tented with  rendering  to  such  a  God  and  Father  a  mere 
homage  of  necessity.  He  opens  his  heart  to  you.  "Will 
you  not  give  your  hearts  to  him  ? 

2.  If  God  is  not  unrighteous  to  forget  your  Avork  and 
labour  of  love  towards  his  name,  you  need  not  care  to  re- 
member it.  You  need  not  keep  a  record  of  your  doings. 
Your  record  and  theirs  is  on  high.  You  want  no  register 
of  them  here,  on  the  earth.  You  may  let  them  slip  out  of 
your  memory. 

And  if  they  slip  out  of  the  memory  of  your  brethren 
and  friends,  whom  you  may  have  specially  obliged,  and  are 
overlooked  or  misconstrued  by  the  world,  you  need  not  take 
that  very  miTch  amiss.  God  is  not  unrighteous  to  forget 
them.  It  was  towards  his  name  that  you  meant  to  show 
your  love.  And  is  not  his  remembrance  of  that  enough  ? 
Wliat  more  would  you  have  1  Will  it  not  be  recompense  of 
reward  enough,  when  the  Lord,  at  his  appearing,  reminds 
you  of  good  offices  done  to  his  little  ones;  which  had 
escaped  not  only  your  recollection  afterwards,  but  even  your 
notice  at  the  time  ;    when  you  ask,  in  astonished  rapture, 


314  THE  KIGHTEOUS  REWARD. 

"  Lord,  when  saw  we  thee  an  hungered,  or  thirsty,  or  naked, 
or  sick,  or  in  prison,  and  visited  thee  ? "  and  when  in  answer 
you  receive  the  marvellous  attestation  and  acknowledgment 
of  your  work  and  labour  of  love,  "  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it 
to  the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  did  it  unto  me." 

3.  For  that  is  the  kind  of  service,  the  work  and  labour 
of  love  towards  God's  name,  indicated  in  both  of  our  texts. 
In  the  cases  of  Moses,  it  is  his  choosing  to  suffer  affliction 
with  the  people  of  God.  In  the  case  of  the  Hebrew  Chris- 
tians, it  is  their  having  ministered  to  the  saints,  and  still 
ministering.  In  both  cases,  what  God  is  not  unrighteous 
to  forget,  is  sympathy  with  his  people  and  ministration  to 
their  necessities.  It  is  your  love  to  them  springing  from  his 
love  to  you.  Your  love,  because  he  first  loved  you.  And 
you  manifest  your  love  by  words  and  deeds  of  kindly  interest 
and  active  beneficence.  Your  fellow-men  are  the  dii-ect  and 
immediate  objects  of  your  attentions  and  assiduities.  You 
visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction.  You  speak 
a  word  in  season  to  the  weary.  You  feed  the  hungry.  You 
clothe  the  naked.  You  give  a  cup  of  cold  water  to  the 
thirsty.  And  what  you  do  to  them,  you  do  to  the  Lord. 
He  counts  himself  to  be  your  debtor  on  their  behalf. 
And  for  him,  as  for  you,  "  it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than 
to  receive." 

4.  And  what  does  he  give  ?  "What  is  the  nature  of  the 
recompense  of  the  reward  1  It  is  not  such  as  a  mercenary, 
self-righteous  worshipper  would  care  for.  It  is  not  a  prize 
won  by  merit.  It  is  simply  grace,  more  grace.  What  was 
it  in  the  case  of  Moses  1  It  was  the  reproach  of  Christ 
that  he  preferred  to  the  treasures  of  Egypt.  And  it  was 
Christ  himself,  seen,  though  invisible,  that  was  his  exceed- 
ing great  reward.  What  was  it  in  the  case  of  the  Hebrew 
Christians?     What  but  security  against  the  terrible  back- 

^  liding  of  which  the  apostle  warned  them  1  "  I  am  persuaded 


THE  EIGIITEOUS   REWARD.  315 

better  things  of  you,  and  things  that  accompany  salvation." 
What  but  progress  in  the  divine  life  and  the  assurance  of 
that  hope  "  which  is  an  anchor  of  the  soul,  sure  and  stedfast, 
and  that  entereth  into  that  -within  the  veil,  -wliither  the  fore- 
runner is  for  us  entered,  even  Jesus,  made  an  high  priest  for 
ever,  after  the  order  of  Melchisedec"  1 


\ 


THE  END. 


Printed  by  R.  &  R.  Clark,  Edinburgh. 


DATE  DUE 


^^^^Sws' 


CAYLORD 


PRINTED  IN  U.S.A. 


1 


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